Mother
by StarClan's Nightmare
Summary: She captured Crookedstar's heart and gave birth to the she-cat who would become Graystripe's mate. Yet so much about Silverstream's mother was shrouded in mystery...until now.
1. Prologue

**I was re-reading ****Fire and Ice**** recently, and I kept wondering who Silverstream's mother was. And in my mind I formed a story…let's see if it works. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors, but technically I do own Silverstream's mother (Wow!). I think. **

Prologue

_Crookedstar's POV_

"Stonepaw, Mistypaw, come forward please," I meowed.

The two gray apprentices stepped forward. My own apprentice, Stonepaw, stood solemn and proud, but his sister was trembling with excitement.

"I, Crookedstar, leader of RiverClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon these two apprentices. They have trained hard to understand the ways of your code, and I commend them to you as warriors in their turn. Stonepaw, Mistypaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

"I do," Stonepaw meowed, more serious than I ever had seen him.

"I do," Mistypaw echoed, eyes gleaming in anticipation.

"Then by the powers of StarClan I give you your warrior names: Stonepaw, from this moment you will be known as Stonefur. StarClan honors your steadfastness and bravery, and we welcome you as a full warrior of RiverClan."

Stonefur licked my shoulder, and then met my eyes for a moment. All the delight and satisfaction that I had had at my own warrior ceremony was mirrored in his eyes. Then he turned and padded to join his fellow warriors.

I turned to Mistypaw. "Mistypaw, from this moment you will be known as Mistyfoot. StarClan honors your trustworthiness and kindness, and we welcome you as a full warrior of RiverClan."

Mistyfoot licked my shoulder, and quickly joined the cats chanting, "Stonefur! Mistyfoot! Stonefur! Mistyfoot!" Their father, Oakheart, was cheering the loudest.

As the new warriors went off to begin their vigil and the other Clan cats retreated to their dens, I saw my daughter dash up to Mistyfoot, chattering excitedly. Mistyfoot gently pushed her away, leaving Silverpaw sitting alone, crestfallen, in the middle of the clearing.

I walked over to her. "Don't fret, Silverpaw. I think Mistyfoot wants to have her special moment right now. Soon enough you'll be a warrior, too."

Silverpaw sighed heavily. "I know." Then she looked up at me, blue eyes sparkling with excitement. "And then you'll make me deputy, right?"

I laughed. "Only if you-" Suddenly, I remembered. A certain she-cat, long ago, had asked me the exact same thing. A she-cat who was gone now. A she-cat with silver fur and merry green eyes….

"Crookedstar? Are you okay?"

I shook my head to clear it, and then purred, "Yes, I'm fine." Silverpaw yawned. "And it looks like you need to go to sleep, little one. Fawnspot told me you've been yawning in training sessions."

"I can't sleep. I look at the stars," replied Silverpaw, and trotted off, calling, "Goodnight!"

"Goodnight!" I meowed, ambling to my den, thinking of another silver cat that used to be restless at night. _Forget her. Stop thinking of her, she's gone, she's not coming back…_

I kneaded my moss bedding in frustration and settled down to sleep. There was a small gap in the roof of my den, and the stars shone down on me brightly. I looked up. "Where are you, Forestcloud?"

**Okay, okay not a great prologue. By the way, the rest of the story might have tidbits of Crookedstar's POV, but it's mostly Forestcloud's. Please read further…and review! **


	2. 1: Refuge

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Warriors. (sniff) You're making me cry. **

Chapter 1: Refuge

_Splish! Splash! _The rain poured down mercilessly, drenching my fur even more. The fog was also moist, which didn't help matters at all. It just made me angrier. Where was I supposed to go? Not back to the barn. Lester and the others would just kick me out again, no matter how much I apologized. Which I would never do anyway.

Growling with irritation, I stamped my paw like a kit. It touched something soft and mushy. _Mud,_ I thought crossly. _Great. Exactly the thing I need to cheer me up._

I was about to turn around and hope that Lester was in a forgiving mood, when I heard the rushing of water. Pricking my ears, I let them guide me through the mist and rain to a large, rapidly-flowing river.

Eagerly, I dipped my head and lapped up the fresh, cool water. It soothed my throat and calmed my anger. A little.

And my luck only increased from there. I spotted a sodden fish lying in the mud on the riverbank. Licking my jaws, I took a huge bite into its scaly flesh and gulped it down hungrily.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

I turned around at the sound of the voice, and was crashed into by a small brown she-cat. I yowled in surprise as she bit down on my ear. Instinctively, I kicked at her stomach but she held onto me, hissing and spitting in my face. The next thing I knew, she had me pinned to the ground.

"What are you doing on RiverClan territory?" she spat.

"RiverClan? What are you talking about? Let go of me!" I protested, squirming relentlessly.

"Oh, you're not a Clan cat, are you? I see." She released me and sat down. Her eyes were a velvety brown, darker than her pelt. The hostility in them had faded a bit.

"I'm just trying to find a place to stay. I got kicked out of my home," I meowed, watching her warily.

"So you're a kittypet, then?"

"No!" I said sharply. "I would never live a life like that! I lived in a barn, with other cats. We had…a disagreement."

The she-cat nodded in approval. "I like your spirit. Not many cats would venture out after being abandoned. What's your name?"

"Forest. Yours?"

"Birchpaw. Did you say you needed somewhere to stay?"

"Yes. But only for a little while."

"Come on," Birchpaw said, flicking her tail. "Follow me. I'll take you to the RiverClan camp."

When we arrived, the rainstorm had slowed to a steady drizzle. The sun peeked out of the clouds. Cats came out of sheltered dens and began talking to each other, soaking in the sun's rays. Birchpaw led me through to a den, larger than the others.

"Thrushstar? Are you there?" she called from the entrance.

A reddish-brown tom emerged. He wasn't demeaning in size or stature, but I felt that he possessed great skill and ferocity. "Birchpaw? What is it? Who is this she-cat?"

"She's called Forest, and she seeks shelter for a few days," replied Birchpaw. "I offered to take her here-"

"That is not your place to do," rumbled Thrushstar. "What if she was a spy for another Clan?"

"But she doesn't smell-"

Thrushstar cut her off, saying to me, "Where do you come from, Forest?"

"A barn north of here," I said swiftly. "I only need shelter for a few days, like Birchpaw said. But if it is not possible, I will leave immediately."

"Did I say that?" Thrushstar meowed. After a short pause, he continued. "You may sleep in the apprentice den tonight. Tomorrow we shall decide what to do."

I nodded, trying to look solemn, but a yawn came out instead. "You should rest now," Birchpaw said. "You must be tired. I'll show you where I sleep."

Birchpaw's nest was warm and comfy. Three other nests also lined the den walls. "The other apprentices," explained Birchpaw. "Loudpaw, Rockpaw, and my brother Crookedpaw."

"Crookedpaw? What kind of name is that?" I said, laughing.

"One that suits me, that's for sure," a deep voice meowed, sounding hurt. I turned around. A large light-colored tabby tom was at the entrance of the den. I noticed that his jaw was slightly crooked. He stared at me with large amber eyes, so fervently I had to look away.

"Come on, Crookedpaw, let's go hunt," Birchpaw said quickly. "Forest needs her rest."

Crookedpaw nodded, and curtly nodded towards me. "Nice to meet you, Forest." The siblings left.

I got into the nest, and soon I drifted in a troubled sleep, filled with rain, fish, and distressed amber eyes.


	3. 2: RiverClan

**Ok, no reviews. Sigh…oh well, I'll just continue. **

**Disclaimer: The day I own Warriors is…is…forget it. **

Chapter 2: RiverClan

"Forest, Forest, wake up!"

I snapped my eyes open. Birchpaw sat in front of me, a fish at her paws. "You slept all yesterday afternoon and night," she explained, nudging the fish towards me. I gulped it down.

"Thanks," I muttered, stretching and yawning. This was the first time I had slept comfortably for moons. "Did it stop raining?"

Birchpaw nodded, and hesitated before asking, "Since you have nothing else to do, can I show you around our camp?"

"If you want to," I meowed indifferently. I needed something to do, after all.

Her eyes lit up. "Great! Follow me."

First she led me into a large clearing where several cats were gathered, licking each other. "This is the main part of camp, where we rest and share tongues," Birchpaw explained.

"Share tongues?" I said, grimacing. _That _didn't sound too appealing.

Birchpaw laughed. "We groom each other and share the news of the day. Although _some _cats prefer to gossip," she added, flicking an ear towards a certain brown tabby she-cat who was whispering to her gray and white companion, all the while looking at me. I glared at her, and she quickly turned away.

"Over there," Birchpaw continued, pointing her tail, "is Brambleberry's den; she's our medicine cat. She excellent at healing cats when they're sick, and she interprets StarClan's omens fantastically, but she's also always good for a talk when you're upset." I was about to ask what StarClan was, but she just plowed on: "Mudpaw is her apprentice; he's Loudpaw's brother. Come on; let's go see if she's inside." Without waiting for my opinion, she sprinted off.

Inside, a pretty she-cat with white and black spotted fur was kneading some leafy stuff underneath her paws. She purred when we entered. "Hello, Birchpaw. And who is this?"

"I'm Forest," I meowed, trying desperately to get a word in before Birchpaw started chattering again. "I'm just staying here for a while."

"I see. Well, it's good for Birchpaw to have some female companionship of her own age for at least a little while. She gets quite lonely with only tom apprentices, and comes to bother me instead," teased Brambleberry.

"I _never _bother you!" protested Birchpaw, at which both the medicine cat and I laughed. Birchpaw swiped me playfully, then asked Brambleberry, "Where's Mudpaw?"

"Out collecting herbs. Brackentail's kitting isn't for a while yet, but her mother always kitted early, so I want to be prepared."

"Speaking of which," Birchpaw said, perking up, "I haven't shown Forest the nursery yet! Come on, Forest. Bye, Brambleberry!" And she was gone again.

"Goodbye, little one," Brambleberry chuckled. Turning her back to me and resuming kneading, she murmured in a low tone, "I would be very pleased if you would stay with us, here in RiverClan, Forest."

I was taken aback. Not knowing what to say to this, I stuttered, "Um…I should be going with Birchpaw. Bye."

"Goodbye," Brambleberry meowed quietly, still not facing me. With a queer feeling, I left.

Birchpaw was waiting for me at the entrance to another den. I could hear a small river rushing past on the other side. "In here, but be quiet," she warned, padding inside. I followed.

Two queens were inside: one with a tortoiseshell pelt, nursing a kit identical to Thrushstar, and one, heavily pregnant, with dark tabby fur.

"Who is this?" the dark she-cat asked suspiciously, narrowing her amber eyes at me.

I chose to let Birchpaw do the talking this time. "This is Forest, Brackentail," she meowed meekly. "She's visiting the camp."

"Visiting? What are we, some showcase clan? Is she a kittypet or a rogue?" Obviously, Brackentail's tongue was as sharp as her glare.

"Now, now, Brackentail, don't be nasty," the other queen chided gently. She took a thorough look at me, and then purred. "I think you must be a rogue. No kittypet is as thin as that. Am I right?"

"Yeah, I guess so," I mumbled uncomfortably.

"What was that?" Brackentail asked obnoxiously. "You can't ask her questions, Hazelcloud, she's as dumb as a mouse."

I bristled at that. It was one thing to have some cat suspicious of you, but to be called dumb and mousy…"And I suppose you are the smartest cat around? If so, I shudder to meet the rest of your Clan."

Hazelcloud gaped openly. Birchpaw stifled a giggle. Brackentail was shocked into a rare silence. "Is there anything else to see?" I asked Birchpaw, and walked out without an answer.

"That was…great!" Birchpaw laughed hysterically. "Stupid, but great!"

"Since when did a cat like that ever become a mother?" I asked, basking in her approval.

"Yeah, she is pretty prickly, but you should see her fight." Birchpaw whistled (**A/N: I know cats can't really whistle, but this is fiction)**. "That alone is probably why Basilclaw is head over paws in love with her. And, I guess, because he's pretty prickly himself. Anyway, I was going to show you the stream by the nursery, where I bet Pebbleshine and her kits were, but I guess we shouldn't go back there until Brackentail has cooled off a bit. There isn't very much else to see, except the warm rocks over on the other side of the island. But I think the elders are relaxing out there, and we don't want-"

"Birchpaw, Forest, hello. What are you two doing?"

Thrushstar, flanked by a black and white tom, stood in front of us.

"Hello, Thrushstar. I was just showing Forest around the camp," Birchpaw meowed respectfully, dipping her head. I copied her, just to be safe.

"That was very good of you, Birchpaw. I believe Reedheart is looking for you, would you be so kind as to find him and see what he needs of you? I need to speak to Forest alone." Birchpaw obediently scampered away. Thrushstar turned to me. "Would you follow me to my den, please?"

I did so quietly, padding behind Thrushstar and the black and white tom. Ever so often he would glance my way with a highly mistrustful look.

When we got inside, Thrushstar looked at me right in the eyes. "Forest, it is time for you to make a very important decision. I know you have a home out in the forest, as you previously told me. I understand if you believe you must return immediately. However, yesterday Birchpaw told me of your remarkable fighting ability; and, you seem interested in RiverClan life, I take it?" I nodded. "So, I am willing to let you into RiverClan as an apprentice. Understand that this is an offer I do not make lightly. On the other hand, we are short on warriors and not many kits have been born this past newleaf. Do you accept my offer?"

To his utter surprise, I replied almost immediately. "Yes, Thrushstar, I do." A life away from Lester and the other barn idiots? I must be dreaming!

The black and white tom started to protest. "Thrushstar, don't you believe you should reconsider-?"

"No, Voleclaw, I don't," Thrushstar said firmly, and walked outside. With one last glare at me, Voleclaw followed him.

"Cats of RiverClan, gather beneath Stonepile!" Thrushstar yowled in a loud voice. His Clanmates responded almost immediately to his call, slipping out from dens and stretching up from their resting positions. I spotted Brackentail coming out from the nursery and purred to myself. What a surprise she would be getting!

"As you know, our Clan has not been great in number these past seasons. So I have decided to let this able young she-cat into our ranks," Thrushstar began. No outward reply was made by RiverClan (they respected their leader too much for that), but much muttering started to occur.

"From now on, this cat will be known as Forestpaw. Her mentor will be Thistlefoot." A black tom stepped forward hesitantly and bent to touch my nose. I automatically drew back. Embarrassment flashed in his eyes and he whispered, "I'm supposed to touch your nose to signify I'm your mentor."

"Oh," I muttered back, and let him do it. Angry murmurings from the Clan cats increased in tone. "She doesn't even know that!" whispered one, a voice I recognized as Brackentail's. But then I heard a louder voice, a clear one, shouting my name.

"Forestpaw! Forestpaw!"

It was Birchpaw. She was joined slowly by her brother, Crookedpaw. "Forestpaw! Forestpaw!" And then by Hazelcloud. "Forestpaw! Forestpaw!" Finally, the whole Clan was shouting it.

"Forestpaw! Forestpaw!"

I marveled at the strength they shouted it. And I secretly wondered to myself if, for once in my life, I could really belong.

**R&R!**


	4. 3: A First Encounter

**Thanks for the review, ScarFlower! On to Chapter 3! **

**Disclaimer: I OWN WARRIORS!! Hah, you didn't actually fall for that, did you? **

Chapter 3: A First Encounter

I was dreaming of fish, rivers, and clawing Brackentail until she begged for mercy (very pleasant, I assure you) when I was rudely awakened by a sharp jab in my side. I grunted in annoyance and opened my eyes.

The large, light-colored form of Crookedpaw sat patiently before me. "Thistlefoot asked me to wake you up," he meowed quietly and somewhat ruefully. "Aspenfur, you, me, and he are one of the morning's hunting patrols."

"This early?" I yawned, stretching in my nest to awaken myself fully.

"You think this is early?" Crookedpaw asked; not mockingly, just curiously. He was staring directly at me, which made me feel self-conscious for some reason. "The sun has already been up for a while. Birchpaw left on the dawn patrol ages ago."

I groaned, trying to cover my loss of security, but stood up anyway. "Well, I can hunt and fight as good as any cat around here. I guess eventually I'll be able to get up as early as you, too. Where are we going?"

Crookedpaw flicked his tail towards the camp entrance. "Our mentors are waiting," was his reply.

It was rather awkward, strolling across the clearing together after what I had said to him to other day (I had no doubt it had reached the ears of the entire Clan by now). I noticed several ears and tails prick up as we passed by, one of them belonging to the same brown tabby she-cat who had been whispering about me yesterday.

"That's Larchsting," Crookedpaw softly responded to my unspoken question. "She's Rockpaw's mentor, and an amazing tracker, but a bit-"

"Well, well, well, if it isn't StarClan's chosen coming to grace us with her presence," sneered a clearly annoyed voice. "You certainly took your time waking up." Without me realizing, we had reached the entrance of camp, and there stood Thistlefoot and a speckled gray tom, who I presumed to be Aspenfur, Crookedpaw's mentor.

"Am I supposed to get all this Clan stuff down in one minute?" I replied hotly, narrowing my eyes.

Aspenfur was taken aback. "Brackentail mentioned you had a temper," was all he managed to mutter.

Thistlefoot was shifting nervously from side to side, like he knew as a good mentor he should rebuke me but didn't have the heart to. "Shall we get going, then?" he finally asked weakly. Aspenfur, still stupefied, nodded, and we padded through the reeds.

* * *

"Do you know any stalking techniques?"

"Any _what_?"

"You know…how you hunt prey?"

"I don't use any technique," I laughed. "I just hunt."

By this time in the "training", I had fully realized that this was Thistlefoot's first experience as a mentor and he didn't have a clue how to begin. We were sitting together not far from the river. Aspenfur and Crookedpaw had gone further downstream and were preoccupied with the task of catching fish. It looked fun, I thought, and I was itching to do it. But if all Thistlefoot was going to do was sit around fretting, then I guessed there was a small possibility of learning.

There was a period of silence that was becoming all too familiar to me when suddenly I smelt something strange. Sort of a dirty, leafy, forest-y kind of smell. Not the best description, but that's what it was like.

"What's that disgusting smell?" I asked, sniffing more closely. Thistlefoot did the same, and then chuckled. "You're becoming more and more like a RiverClan cat; you've grown comfortable with our scent now. That strange smell is the scent of ThunderClan. I've gotten so used to it I didn't think to explain it to you."

"ThunderClan?" I repeated, puzzled. "You mean there's another Clan?"

Before he could reply, across the river there was a rustle in the bushes. Three cats emerged out of them, ears pricked, eyes alert, all with the same strange scent. One, a tom with a black and white pelt, was about the same size as me-an apprentice. The other two were larger: one a speckled white tom, the other a pale gray she-cat.

"Greetings, Thistlefoot," the white tom meowed, raising his voice above the sound of the river.

Thistlefoot dipped his head. "The same to you, Tawnyspots. How is the prey running in ThunderClan?"

"All is as it needs to be," the she-cat said crisply, narrowing her eyes to slits.

Tawnyspots gave her a disapproving look and shouted to my mentor, "We're just renewing our scent markings around Sunningrocks."

Now it was Thistlefoot who tensed. The she-cat whispered something sharply to Tawnyspots, who brushed her off impatiently. She looked highly affronted, and commanded loudly, "Come, Patchpaw," to the apprentice, who meekly followed her back through the bushes. Tawnyspots gave Thistlefoot a last brisk nod, and disappeared after them.

Thistlefoot stood motionless for a while, not moving until Aspenfur, with Crookedpaw at his heels, sprinted up to him and hissed, "Did you hear that, Thistlefoot? That was a direct jab at RiverClan! The nerve of Tawnyspots…those pieces of foxdung think _they _own Sunningrocks!"

"I heard," Thistlefoot replied piercingly, harsher than I had ever heard him speak. He looked deeply troubled, while Aspenfur was plain furious. Me? I had no idea what was going on, but I sensed trouble with ThunderClan ahead. Maybe even a battle, when I could prove my fighting skills!

My thoughts must have showed on my face, because Crookedpaw glanced at me with those penetrating amber eyes. I instinctively ducked, pretending to wash my face. _Why _was it that every time he looked at me I felt squeamish?

"I think you and Crookedpaw have caught enough fish. I have an idea of what to do with my apprentice now. Why don't you go back to camp?" Thistlefoot meowed to Aspenfur.

He nodded, cooling off a bit. "But I'm going to tell Thrushstar what just happened, make no mistake!" With that, he and Crookedpaw padded away.

My mentor turned to me. Since the encounter with the ThunderClan cats, he had turned from a fidgeting panicky wreck to a solemn and authoritative warrior. "It's a good thing to get you familiar with the territory before we start hunting or fighting. You've seen the border with ThunderClan, and some ThunderClan cats: Tawnyspots, Hollystorm **(A/N: That's One-eye!)**, and Patchpaw. If you follow me, I'll show you another border."

Thistlefoot led me along the riverbank until we came to a dirt pathway. "Over there," he explained, nodding to the left, "is a Twoleg farm." Nodding to the right, he added, "See that bridge? That's the way we travel to Fourtrees"

"Travel to where?"

Thistlefoot sighed, but his eyes twinkled. "Birchpaw didn't tell you everything, did she? Fourtrees is an area with four large oak trees where Gatherings take place. Gatherings are when all four Clans come together at the full moon to share news. Only a few cats are chosen from each Clan to go, though. You have to deserve it."

"What are the two other Clans?" I asked excitedly. This life was becoming more interesting by the moment.

"WindClan and ShadowClan. The border with WindClan is just north of here. Come on." He led me across the pathway into a lush green field. While we were traveling across this field, I saw a mouse hiding in the grass. Lowering myself into position, I crept forward as quietly as I could. The creature was nibbling on something; it was too easy. I caught it between my paws and was just about to take a bite when Thistlefoot stopped me.

"The first thing you need to know about Clan life," he said sternly, "is that an honorable warrior never eats before feeding the Clan first."

"But Crookedpaw and Aspenfur caught loads of fish!" I protested. "Can't I eat this itsy bitsy little mouse?"

Thistlefoot purred in amusement. "That itsy bitsy little mouse, Forestpaw, would fatten up my mate Pebbleshine, who happens to have two kits to feed."

"Okay, okay," I muttered, shoving the mouse towards him.

He licked my ear and gently asked, "Are you tired?"

"A bit," I admitted.

"Then quickly go take this mouse to Pebbleshine and then you can rest for a bit, share tongues with Birchpaw, eat something. Then I'll come back for you and teach you something about fishing. You're good at mice hunting, but it won't give you much of an advantage unless you're thinking of joining smelly ThunderClan," teased Thistlefoot, nudging me to my feet. There was no need; I hopped up eagerly and dashed off towards camp in lighter spirits. But the encounter with the ThunderClan cats was still stuck in my mind. Why was it so important? And why had Thistlefoot suddenly changed so much afterwards?

**Uh-oh, tension's rising between RiverClan and ThunderClan…tsk tsk, that can't be good….R&R!**


	5. 4: Distant Memories

**Sorry I didn't update for a while, but here is Chapter 4!**

**Find the Disclaimer:WWiWWWWdon'tWWWWWownWWWWWwarriorsWWW**

Chapter 4: Distant Memories

"Wow, back so soon?" was Birchpaw's greeting to me as I carried my catch into camp.

"How about 'Hi, Forestpaw. I missed you. How are you?'" I answered, playfully swiping her ear.

She growled good-naturedly. "Hey, I didn't want get snapped at. I never know what will happen when I get too warm and cuddly around you."

"Thanks a lot." I sighed. "I hope I do some fighting practice soon. Hunting sounds really boring."

"Tough luck, because most of the time you will be hunting. And, actually, it's sort of fun, if you like getting your paws wet." Birchpaw's whiskers twitched in amusement. "You have to like getting your paws wet, anyway, or else you'll be kicked out of RiverClan."

"Don't worry. I swam pretty well back in 'rogue' territory." I picked up the mouse again.

"Where are you going with that?"

I flicked my tail towards the nursery and rolled my eyes.

"Not to Brackentail, I hope?"

I shook my head vigorously. Birchpaw laughed.

"See you later, then."

I padded towards the nursery, trying to ignore the hunger gnawing at my stomach. It would be one quick bite to finish the mouse off, and it would satisfy my tummy for at least a little while. _No, no, no, _I chided myself. _You've got to get used to these rules sooner or later, and it better be sooner. Besides, it would give Brackentail and Larchsting yet another reason to gossip openly about me. _

Two queens sat in the nursery; luckily, Brackentail wasn't one of them. Only one of them I recognized: Hazelcloud, was snoozing with the tiny kit I saw yesterday. The other I guessed was Pebbleshine, a white she-cat with a gray-flecked pelt—the one I was hoping to see. Two fluffy kits clambered over her, squealing and batting at each other with their paws.

"Hush, kits! Hazelcloud is trying to get some rest," Pebbleshine was scolding them.

"But I'm Snakestar, and Swankit is Thrushstar, so we _have _to fight," mewed the larger kit, a black and white female.

Pebbleshine purred. "Well, do it quietly, then." She looked up at me. "You must be Forestpaw, Thistlefoot's new apprentice. Is that mouse for us?"

"Yes. Thistlefoot sent it," I said, dropping the mouse at her paws. Instantly the two kits scrambled down from their mother and started eating it hungrily.

"Thank you very much. I-Falconkit, let your sister have a decent bite, for StarClan's sake!-saw how proud Thrushfoot was when he got you as an apprentice. How is he as a mentor?"

"Fine," I replied shortly.

"I see," the queen meowed, a knowing glint in her eyes. "What did he teach you today?"

Not wanting to hang around too long, I said hurriedly, "He showed me the borders and told me about the other Clans. While we were at the river, a ThunderClan patrol came to the other side. He seemed…bothered…when they said they were renewing their scent marks around Sunningrocks. Aspenfur was plain furious, but he was…quietly worried. Do you know why?" I asked curiously.

Pebbleshine sighed. "Sunningrocks has always been a subject of tension between ThunderClan and RiverClan. It used to be part of RiverClan territory, but then the river changed, as it always does, and it was apparently part of ThunderClan—or so the ThunderClanners claim. Battles have always raged over Sunningrocks since then. When Thistlefoot and I were apprentices, there was a particularly horrible one. Both of his parents were killed." Her eyes glazed over with pain. "As well as my brother."

"I'm sorry," I whispered, averting my eyes from her face.

She shifted her position. "Thistlefoot has always avoided dealing with battles concerning Sunningrocks since then. It troubles him greatly."

"I should be going," I said suddenly, feeling an abrupt urge to leave the nursery.

Pebbleshine nodded. "And, Forestpaw--please don't mention what I told you to my mate. Act as if you don't know."

"I will," I replied, and dashed out as fast as I could. I stopped in the center of the clearing to catch my breath. For some reason, I couldn't deal with misery and sorrow like Thistlefoot's and Pebbleshine's. It reminded me too much of my own anguish at a particular event not so long ago…

I shook my head. I didn't want to think of that, not here, not now. I needed sleep, that's what I needed. And after that I would focus all my attention on learning to fish. Maybe after that, Thistlefoot would teach me how to fight!

**Yes, I know it's a short chapter. I couldn't find a good way to connect this one to the next. So read on, but don't forget to review! **

**By the way, this story wouldn't exist without you awesome reviewers! Thankyou ThankyouThankyouThankyouThankyouThankyouThankyouThankyouThankyouThankyouThankyouThankyou!**


	6. 5: More Than Expected

**Disclaimer: If I owned Warriors, I wouldn't be writing this, would I? **

Chapter 5: More Than Expected

"Thistlefoot, may I please, please, _please _have a fighting lesson?"

"Have you hunted for the elders and Pebbleshine?"

"I swear Falconkit left a scar on my back from digging her claws in there! I'm glad she's becoming an apprentice tomorrow."

"Have you changed the elders' bedding and picked out their ticks?"

"Lucky me, I got left with Weedclaw. The combination of his horrible smell, abundant ticks, and perfectly charming insults left me ready to tear his fur out."

"Have you eaten?"

"That pleasantly fat fish I caught this morning on patrol? Loudpaw ate it! Just snatched it out from under my nose and gobbled it up. I had to settle for a half-starved water vole that stupid tom caught."

"Are you sure you want to go? Crookedpaw is there."

I growled angrily. "For the last time, Thistlefoot, I am not shy around him, nor do I 'like' him."

"Then why do you always avoid getting near him, and are unusually silent around him?"

"I am not!" I protested, but it was a lie. Crookedpaw's amber gaze always made me feel so loud and crude. When I was near him my stomach squirmed; I felt hot under my fur every time he said my name; I always felt I had to be perfect in his presence. But did this add up to love? Definitely not!

Thistlefoot did a tremendous favor and dragged me out of these thoughts with a slow, "Well, I suppose you deserve it. You've grown to be quite the hunter."

"I'll be an even better fighter, I promise! Please, please, please!" I begged. This was very unlike me, but in the three moons I'd been a RiverClan apprentice, my mentor had only taken me to the Training Circle once.

"Okay," he meowed with a laugh, "let's go."

* * *

The Training Circle was exactly as its name described. It was a large, grassy surface a bit below normal ground level circled by small stones. Legend had it that underneath the grass and sand lay the long-deteriorated body of Riverstar, so what better place to train apprentices than under the watchful eye of RiverClan's founder?

Lucky for me, Crookedpaw wasn't the only apprentice present. In fact, he wasn't even fighting, just discussing tactics with Aspenfur. Birchpaw was tussling with Rockpaw, the oldest of the apprentices. I could see the frustration in her eyes and the glee in Larchsting's as Rockpaw pinned her down again and again. It wasn't really a fair battle, as Rockpaw had been training longer, but clearly Larchsting and he didn't care.

"Hey there, Thistlefoot! Come to challenge my unbeaten apprentice?" Larchsting meowed smugly to my mentor.

"That's not true!" Birchpaw hissed angrily before jumping on Rockpaw's back. "Crookedpaw beat him twice—ouch! That _hurt_, you mousebrain!"

Larchsting continued as if Birchpaw had never spoken. "I've noticed that you've only taking Forestpaw to the Training Circle once since she joined RiverClan. How about a quick battle with Rockpaw as a sort of…initiation test?"

I knew Thistlefoot would refuse. Sure enough, he started to form the words in his mouth, but I cut him off by replying hotly, "Sure, Forestpaw would like that."

The she-cat narrowed her eyes, finally looking in my direction. "Well, that's decided, then. Rockpaw, off."

Rockpaw retracted his teeth from Birchpaw's scruff, an arrogant gleam in his eye. Birchpaw licked her paw furiously, shooting a slit-eyed glare in his direction. Reedheart, her mentor, whispered a few encouraging words to her and leading her to the edge of the clearing.

I flexed my claws, trying to calm the writhing in my stomach. No, I wasn't afraid of Rockpaw in the least; Crookedpaw was watching me intently.

Rockpaw cocked his head conceitedly. "Ready?" he asked.

"Forestpaw…" warned Thistlefoot quietly, but I had already launched myself in Rockpaw's direction. He slipped away, just as my paws had barely touched him. I ended up with a mouthful of grass.

I heard Larchsting's _mrrow _of amusement and Birchpaw's hiss of irritation. I got on my paws as quickly as I could, but not quick enough. _Slam! _Rockpaw knocked me over with both of his paws, then added another blow for good measure. I could feel blood trickle down the side of my head.

"Had enough, rogue scum?" whispered my opponent tauntingly.

"I'm just starting!" I hissed back, bringing my paw downward to slice his face. He moved, but not without my claws catching the left side of his face. I heard his fur rip and blood splattered in my eyes. He yowled in pain, scrambling backwards.

Thistlefoot must have seen the blood, for he cried out, "Stop, both of you!"

Instead, Rockpaw shook his head angrily, trying to get blood off his face. Then he leapt for me again, this time claws fully unsheathed. I turned around and pushed my legs backwards, sending him flying backwards. I immediately flipped around and jumped onto him, grabbing his scruff. He howled as I shook him back and forth until his teeth rattled.

"Am I rogue scum?" I asked furiously, pausing for a moment to let him answer.

Rockpaw glared at me, lashing out an unsheathed paw that caught my ear. I heard the flesh rip and I screeched in pain. He took the chance and pushed me onto the ground, raising a paw to slash my face. I thrust my back legs out again, getting him on his back on the ground again. Blood pounded in my ears as I prepared to charge at him again, when Crookedpaw barreled into me and pinned me down with such strength I could hardly breathe. From Rockpaw's yowls at the other end of the circle, it was evident he was getting the same treatment.

Crookedpaw was staring straight at me, but his eyes were no longer calm and unruffled; they were a storm of anger, horror, and—_sympathy_?

"You can let her up now, Crookedpaw," Thistlefoot's enraged voice said.

Crookedpaw got off me, and I clambered to my paws, feeling sick and aching from the open wounds all over my pelt. I looked at Rockpaw. He had a particularly nasty gash on his left cheek that was gushing out blood at a fast pace, as well as other scratches and clumps of fur missing on his back, stomach, and face. Larchsting was staring at me in unspeakable anger.

"Look what you have done to my apprentice!" she screeched wrathfully. "He _was _going to become a warrior tonight, and _now_ look at him! Not to mention all the pain you've caused him!"

Vehemence boiled up inside me. "And you think I got off just lovely? He almost ripped my ear off! You're the one who suggested the stupid battle anyway!"

Larchsting sat openmouthed in shock, much as Brackentail had looked when I insulted her so many moons ago.

"Forestpaw is my apprentice, Larchsting. I will deal with her as I think is right," Thistlefoot's quiet but deadly voice meowed behind me. "Forestpaw, come with me."

I turned around and followed my mentor with a sore feeling in my heart. I had felt so superior during the battle, so energized, so powerful…now I just hurt.

* * *

"Well, Forestpaw. That was much, much, much more than I expected of you," Thistlefoot said gravely. He had led me to the riverbank. The river was running swiftly but gently, and I could see the silver fish gleaming in the sunlight reflected on the water.

"On one hand, I want to congratulate you. Rockpaw is much more experienced than you, but you managed to fight him with equal, not to mention superb, skill."

"On the other hand, which is a big one, I want to say I was extremely ashamed of you during the battle. First of all, you unsheathed your claws. Never, ever do that in practice battles unless I tell you to. Second of all, you didn't listen to me when I told you to stop. Obedience to your mentor is one of your major priorities while you are an apprentice." I stared at my paws in shame. I hadn't felt bad when Larchsting was yowling at me, but this was totally different. I realized how much I valued Thistlefoot's respect.

My mentor suddenly lowered his voice. "Forestpaw, I know this sounds like a boring lecture. But it's very important. If you aren't obedient and careful, you might be kicked out of RiverClan. And I would be extremely distressed if that were the case." I looked up at him in surprise. He purred teasingly. "Yes, I'm afraid I've been with you too much to be able to hate you, prickles and all. So will you be more cautious from now on?"

I nodded. "Rockpaw called me rogue scum. That's why I hurt him."

"Oh. I see." Thistlefoot glanced up at the sky. "Well, we'd better get you to Brambleberry right away. Those cuts look nasty. Although," he added, his eyes lightening up, "Rockpaw's looked much worse."

**Awww, thank you for understanding, Thistlefoot! You know, ForestxThistle wouldn't be a bad shipping….**

**Pebbleshine: Ahem. **

**Kidding, kidding! That would ruin the whole story, anyway. Review, please! **


	7. 6: Momentous Occasions

**REVIEWS! If I could squeal online, I would. Except that would be totally immature and pointless, so never mind. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors (oh no-I'm running out of clever things to say!)**

Chapter 6: Momentous Occasions

After my talk with Thistlefoot, I had been in a fairly good mood. But of course, this wasn't to last. Who do you suppose was in the medicine cat den when I arrived, yowling and whining like an overgrown kit? Yes, that stuck-up, foxdung-minded, spoiled brat of a Rockpaw.

And wasn't he a sight to see. Thanks to Brambleberry's quick ministrations, most of his cuts were cleansed of blood and already starting to dry up into scabs. However, Mudpaw was still pressing several cobwebs to his left cheek, where I had slashed him in my raging anger. The missing clumps of fur couldn't grow back immediately, obviously, and I had to keep from laughing when I saw the end of his tail; it was completely devoid of fur. I probably shouldn't have even been thinking about laughing, because Rockpaw's appearance doubtlessly wasn't much different from my own.

"Would you quit doing that?" growled Rockpaw, pushing away Mudpaw's paw from his face. "It stings!"

"As well it should," replied Mudpaw, trying to keep his voice level. "You're going to have a scar there as it is; so stop shuffling unless you want half of your face to fall off!"

Rockpaw muttered something under his breath, but didn't protest when the medicine cat apprentice continued to put cobwebs on him.

Brambleberry purred in amusement, then spotted me at the entrance. "Well, hello, Forestpaw. I see you've come for treatment as well."

Rockpaw hissed, scowling at me. I held up head and ignored him. "Yes. Rockpaw and I got into…a scuffle."

"A scuffle? I see," Brambleberry said, with clear disbelief in her voice, but a sparkle in her eye. "Come over here and let me look at you."

For the following period of time, a heavy silence hung over the den, punctured only by the occasional "Ouch!" from Rockpaw. He hadn't been lying—the herbs really did sting when they touched the bleeding welts on my pelt. But I wouldn't give my adversary the satisfaction of hearing me cry out like a kit.

After a while, when Brambleberry was administering the final remedies to me and Rockpaw was dozing in a corner, Larchsting bounded into the den, her eyes glowing. She ran over to her apprentice and nudged him roughly. "Get up, you lazy lump!"

"Huh?" Rockpaw meowed drowsily, at the same time Brambleberry said to his mentor, "Larchsting, please-"

Larchsting was too animated to mind what Brambleberry was saying. "Get yourself presentable, you mousebrain, because I just talked to Thrushstar and he said he still will make you a warrior before the Gathering!"

_Now _Rockpaw was awake. His eyes stretched wide, and, as if in a trance, he got up and stared at his mentor. Then, all of a sudden, he yowled triumphantly and raced outside. I heard Mudpaw breathe a sigh of relief.

Larchsting purred gleefully, anticipation shining in her eyes, but suddenly she turned dour and turned to me. "Thrushstar would like to speak to you after Rockpaw's warrior ceremony."

"Fine," I replied coldly, lifting my head up to hide the growing apprehension within me. I would not show any fear before her.

She shot one last glare in my direction, and then hurried outside to assist Rockpaw.

I unsheathed my claws in impulsive anger. How was it that Rockpaw got to become a warrior, and I didn't, when I proved I matched his fighting skills entirely? And hadn't I almost always brought back larger, healthier fish from the river? By the time I became a warrior, I would have as much experience as him. I would make a fantastic warrior now. I knew it. It was completely unfair! Of course, deep down, I knew all this internal fury was ridiculous, because Rockpaw had been training a lot longer than I had. But I chose to ignore this.

"Everything seems to be fixed now," Brambleberry meowed gently, bringing me out of my tumultuous thoughts. Her warm voice calmed me, and I felt slightly ashamed of my previous feelings. Good thing medicine cats couldn't read minds. "Just keep an eye on that ear, it was ripped pretty badly."

"Thanks, Brambleberry. I will," I promised, heading outside.

"And, Forestpaw-"

"Yes?" I halted at the tone of her voice. It sounded a little criticizing and disapproving. Maybe I was wrong about her not knowing my thoughts.

"Couldn't you be nicer to Crookedpaw? He thinks quite highly of you, and I'm sure you two would be _very _good friends."

I bared my teeth and could barely keep from uttering a growl, although I felt a certain amount of relief that she hadn't said what I thought she was going to say. "_Goodbye_, Brambleberry," I replied emphatically.

Her amused chuckles followed me outside, where most cats were already gathered beneath Stonepile. Thrushstar sat atop it, sweeping his gaze over his Clan with narrowed amber eyes. Voleclaw was perched not far from him, his chest puffed out proudly. I remembered Birchpaw telling me that our Clan deputy was Rockpaw's father; his mother had died in kit-birth.

Just as I was thinking of her, I spotted my friend amongst my Clanmates. I trotted over to her side and sat down. She looked excited, her ears pricked and tail twitching rapidly, though I couldn't imagine what about.

"Don't tell me you're happy Rockpaw is becoming a warrior before us!" I wailed in mock desperation.

Birchpaw laughed, flicking my nose with her tail. "Of course not!"

"Then what are you so gleeful about?"

"Reedheart told me that Thrushstar decided I could go to the Gathering tonight!"

"Lucky," I sighed. "I haven't ever been to Gathering."

"Thrushstar might have picked you this time, considering your outstanding performance at the Training Circle today," a low, mellow voice, one that was terribly familiar, objected. A shiver escalated up my spine as I turned to my left to see the light-colored tabby tom sitting calmly next to me. He met my eyes with unabashed seriousness, waiting for me to reply. I opened my mouth, Brambleberry's words echoing in my head.

"Th-"

I was interrupted by Thrustar's voice ringing across the clearing. "Cats of RiverClan, it is time for one of our apprentices to receive his warrior name. Larchsting, are you satisfied that this apprentice is ready to become a warrior of RiverClan?"

"Completely satisfied," Larchsting's voice, icy as always but nonetheless proud, replied.

Thrushstar raised his head to the skies. "Then I, Thrushstar, leader of RiverClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn." He turned to Rockpaw, whose scarred gray head I could barely see. "Rockpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

"I do," piped Rockpaw, his reply coming out almost squeaky. Birchpaw and I exchanged highly amused looks.

"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Rockpaw, from this moment you will be known as Rockpelt. StarClan honors your bravery and your fortitude, and we welcome you as a full warrior of RiverClan." Thrushstar pressed his muzzle on the top of Rockpelt's head, and the new warrior licked his shoulder in return.

Loud cheers of "Rockpelt, Rockpelt!" echoed around the camp. Birchpaw and Crookedpaw contributed their own, Birchpaw's being perhaps a bit less enthusiastic than others, but I was too wrapped up in my thoughts to join them. I envisioned myself in Rockpelt's place, shining in StarClan's approving gaze, hearing the enthusiastic calls of my Clanmates. And then my vision went further: me, having proved myself an excellent warrior and successful mentor, being named deputy of RiverClan. And, finally, in a blaze of glory, after the tragic death of Thrushstar, me receiving my nine lives and becoming Foreststar, beloved leader of RiverClan. Leader!

At that moment, though I didn't realize it until much later, my future was decided. My ambition was no longer just to fit into RiverClan; oh no, I would become _leader_ of RiverClan. I felt a thrilling surge in my heart. Now that my desire was clear, I knew what I had to do. I had to be _better _than everyone else: my fellow apprentices, future fellow warriors, everyone!

This insane obsession filled my whole mind, and I sat, staring into space, for a long while, trying to plan how I would prove my worthiness to the Clan, not hearing Birchpaw calling me until she stepped on my tail.

"Ow! What was that for?" I asked angrily.

"You mousebrain, I've been calling your name forever. Thrushstar needs to see you, remember? Hopefully you don't doze off in front of him," Birchpaw replied tartly.

"Sorry. I'll go now. Maybe I'll see you at the Gathering."

"Right. See you."

All adrenalin I had received while thinking about my dream for the future was slowly fading as I padded towards Thrushstar's den. I was definitely in for a scolding; probably something close to Thistlefoot's lecture earlier. How much had Larchsting tattled to the leader?

I paused at the entrance, which was shielded by a curtain of reeds. "Thrushstar?"

"Forestpaw? Yes, you may enter."

I poked my head in through the reeds. It didn't look very much different from the warrior or apprentice dens; a small moss nest in one corner, feathers woven into the branch roof, sparkling stones and shells lining the edge of the floor. Thrushstar clearly had the love of pretty things like any other RiverClan cat. This observation made my anxiety calm down a bit, but also reawakened my hopes about leadership. One day, this would be _my _den...I couldn't help purring with pleasure.

"You like it?" asked Thrushstar, stepping out of the shadowy part of the den. He was watching me carefully. I mentally scolded myself for showing such plain interest.

"Yes. It's...very pretty," I said lamely, hurrying to the point of conversation. "Larchsting said you wanted to speak with me?"

"Indeed I do," he meowed. "I have no doubt that you are aware of what she told me?" I bowed my head , acknowledging the truth of his statement.

"You provoked Rockpelt into a fight, inflicting serious wounds on him when his back was turned?"

"What?!" I exploded, jerking my head up, anger boiling up inside me. "That's a lie! I-"

Thrushstar flicked his tail for silence. "That's what I thought. When Larchsting is angry, she tends to...overreact. Now, I want to hear what happened from your point of view."

I told him everything that had happened-well, almost everything. To avoid embarrassment, I left out the part where Crookedpaw had pinned me down and looked at me so strangely. I didn't need Thrushstar getting involved in the Crookedpaw-Forestpaw drama that seemed to be everyone's favorite gossip topic.

At the end of my tale, Thrushstar was silent for a while, looking up at the roof of his den. Finally, he meowed, "You disobeyed a direct order from your mentor and was very rough with Rockpelt, Forestpaw. You understand this?"

I sighed, nodding. So much for the Gathering.

"However, it is quite an achievement for an apprentice your age to successfully battle another apprentice on the verge of becoming a warrior. For this, I commend you. I think it is punishment enough for you to see Rockpelt's warrior ceremony when you 'beat' him, no?"

"Y-y-yes," I stuttered, too shocked for words.

"Very well. You may go," Thrushstar finished, turning his back on me.

I slowly made my way to leave, when suddenly an inspiration took hold of me. I turned around and asked, "Thrushstar, may I go to the Gathering tonight? I haven't been to one yet."

He looked surprised at being spoken to so directly. For a moment I thought he was going to refuse, but he replied, "I suppose you can."

_Yes! _I thought triumphantly. "Thank you very much, Thrushstar."

* * *

"I can't believe he let you come!" Birchpaw said while we were on our way to Fourtrees. "_And _you didn't get any punishment! He must think you're really special."

"Hey, he can't deny the truth, can he?" I meowed.

"Oh, shut up," she purred, butting her head on my side. "I'm glad you came, anyway. Wait till you see how prickly those ShadowClan apprentices are. Loudpaw almost got his paw snapped off once! The ThunderClan apprentices are nice, but a bit stuck-up. 'The forest is so great, we're the best hunters, blah blah blah'. Some WindClan apprentices will talk, but a lot of them just keep to themselves. And never mind all the elders. They always tell me 'You're much too talkative, young one. In _our_ day, apprentices were taught manners'." Birchpaw grimaced, doing an imitation of a grumpy elder.

"I think I can handle them," I laughed. "Weedclaw has given me plenty of experience."

Fourtrees was amazing. The four large oaks sheltering the clearing dominated the scene, casting an ominous shadow over the cats assembled beneath them. The Great Rock protruded in the middle of the clearing, glowing in the moonlight. Two cats were already poised on it; a yellow-striped tabby tom and a pale gray tabby she-cat. I caught the strong scents of ThunderClan and WindClan, so I assumed they were their leaders.

"That's Spiritstar and Sunstar," Birchpaw answered to my unspoken question. "Spiritstar is WindClan's leader; Sunstar is ThunderClan's. Come on, I see a couple of apprentices over there!"

I followed her to where the cats of interest sat, in a corner by one of the oak trees. There were three: a small black-and-white tom, a pretty tortoiseshell she-cat, and a lean tabby tom. They didn't appear to be in deep conversation, so Birchpaw brazenly meowed, "Hello!"

The tortoiseshell purred, "Hello," in return, but the toms looked wary and merely gave brisk nods.

"I'm Birchpaw," my friend explained, "and this is Forestpaw. It's her first Gathering." I shot a sideways glare in her direction; she made me sound like a newly made apprentice!

"I'm Dapplepaw of ThunderClan," the tortoiseshell replied cheerfully. "It's my first Gathering, too. This is my Clanmate Patchpelt," she indicated the black-and-white tom, "and Heronpaw of WindClan." The tabby gave another nod, while Patchpelt shuffled his paws. Suddenly, I remembered.

"Didn't I see you at the river, a couple of moons ago? You were with Tawnyspots, and another she-cat. But she called you Patchpaw..."

Patchpelt flattened his ears in embarrassment, as if the memory disturbed him. "I became a warrior only a few sunrises ago."

"Congratulations!" Birchpaw squealed.

Dapplepaw beamed. "He's going to be the best warrior in ThunderClan!" Patchpelt looked at the ground pleadingly, like he wanted it to swallow him up.

Heronpaw muttered something under his breath. I turned my head towards him and asked sharply, "And how close are _you _to becoming a warrior?"

"Who knows?" he replied shortly, meeting my challenging gaze. "I've been training a while, and maybe after the attack-"

"What attack?" I interrupted. Patchpelt looked up, ears pricked. Birchpaw and Dapplepaw's eyes opened wide.

Now it was Heronpaw's turn to look at his paws. "I-I-I-I didn't...didn't say...I...Aren't you that rogue apprentice?" he asked me abruptly.

"Rogue?" I meowed coldly, narrowing my eyes. If he was aiming to change the subject, he had succeeded, but I didn't care. "Excuse me if this question exceeds your mental capacities, but if I was a rogue, why would I be at a Gathering?"

"Rockpaw was talking about it at the last Gathering I went to," the WindClan apprentice continued, clutching to my distraction like drowning prey, "He said you were rogue scum, and that you were filthy and stupid, and a desperately hopeless fighter."

"She's far from it." I froze. My stomach flipped. I didn't dare to turn my head. Oh, please, StarClan, not him... "She's probably one of the best hunters in the Clan, and such a skilled fighter that she beat Rockpaw, who was named a warrior tonight, earlier today. Do you call that rogue scum?"

Heronpaw was speechless. "I have to go," he meowed hurriedly, turning and dashing away.

Birchpaw, Patchpelt, and Dapplepaw were all staring past me, at him. I finally turned around, mustered up all the spite I possessed, and spat, "I can fight my own battles, thanks."

Crookedpaw was dumbfounded. "I was just trying to help..."

"Did I ask for your help? No!" I shot back. I wanted to be angry, furious; instead I just felt like crying.

"Fine," he replied, and for the first time I saw irritation in his eyes. "Fine, if you want to be that way." He spun around and trotted away, disappearing into the crowd of cats.

I faced the other apprentices again, but found myself only with Birchpaw, her amber eyes blazing with fury.

"What was that for?" she demanded.

"I...I didn't want him to...to..."

"To defend you? Great StarClan, Forestpaw, can't you at least _pretend _to be nice? Honestly, sometimes I don't know why I'm your friend. You're pricklier than a hedgehog!" She stepped back and before leaving me alone, gave a few final words. "Figure out whether you want friends or not, because frankly, I've had enough!"

"Birchpaw, wait, I didn't-Birchpaw! Birchpaw!"

But she was gone.

**Oh dear, Forestpaw's temper has definitely got the better of her this time...**

**Wow, I think that was the longest chapter I've ever written. Don't worry, there's plenty of action coming up in the next few chapters (after I get through with the Gathering-ugh). Review, if you please, and don't forget to give me your opinion on Forestpaw's crazy ambition! **


	8. 7: Plans and Accusations

**Disclaimer: Warriors belongs to Erin Hunter, but Forestpaw, Birchpaw, Thistlefoot, Pebbleshine, and a bunch of other characters belong to me. So there. :) **

Chapter 7: Plans and Accusations

After my so-called friend had deserted me, I sat by myself for a long time, unaware of the conversations and cats around me, a thousand different emotions whirring around inside me. Birchpaw's scornful words echoed in my head. _I've had enough...honestly, sometimes I don't know why I'm your friend...can't you at least pretend to be nice? _Was I really that awful? I couldn't be. Compared to the cats at the barn, I was perfectly darling. Birchpaw was being stubborn, she didn't know what she was talking about, and Crookedpaw...well, I couldn't make up my mind about him yet. I wouldn't crawl back to either of them, though, and start begging for forgiveness. What kind of leader would I make, if I broke down so easily?

Suddenly, I smelled an unfamiliar stench in the air. Looking over at one end of the clearing, I saw a small group of cats file into Fourtrees. _ShadowClan, _I thought, wrinkling my nose with distaste. Strangely, though, they didn't seem as ferocious as Birchpaw had led me to believe. Instead, they looked weary and ragged, with unkempt fur and dim eyes, and tails that dragged along the ground.

Leading them was an elderly black and white tom, with a broad head and narrow yellow eyes that flicked from the cats below Great Rock and the leaders-evidently Snakestar, the leader of ShadowClan. He separated from the rest of his Clan to make his way to Great Rock, but he stopped on his way and started a loud, raspy coughing fit. A gray she-cat, with a face and eyes almost identical to his, rushed over to support him, murmuring something. Snakestar pushed her away, shaking his head persistently. She tried to speak again, but he ignored her and limped onward.

I watched Snakestar as he scrambled up the side of Great Rock. At one point, he lost his footing, automatically letting out a yowl. All heads turned. Thrushstar immediately sank his teeth into his scruff and pulled him up, with no help from the other leaders. Sunstar and Spiritstar merely exchanged a look that I found very suspicious. Did they _want_ Snakestar to fall off and break his neck?

"Well, I believe Snakestar has called all of you to attention already," Spiritstar meowed loudly, shooting a sideways glance at him. He gave a barely audible hiss. "Thrushstar, why don't you start the Gathering with your news."

Thrushstar dipped his head to her and stepped forward. "RiverClan has a new warrior; tonight Rockpelt sits vigil for the camp. Also, one of our queens, Brackentail, gave birth to a litter of three healthy kits." I groaned, recalling this event, and looked at Birchpaw for her reaction. Then, with a pang, I remembered her departure.

Sunstar padded ahead after Thrushstar had retreated, but Spiritstar, every so slightly, brushed her tail against his flank. He glanced at her, and she nodded; instead of calling out his news, he moved back and let the WindClan leader take his place.

I'm sure I wasn't the only one to notice this unusual moment; discontent murmuring broke out amongst the gathered cats, the loudest coming from ThunderClan. But as soon as Spiritstar started to speak, all of Fourtrees was quiet.

"Cats of all Clans," she began, fixing her icy blue eyes on those below her, "regretfully, WindClan has no new apprentices, warriors, or kits. But we do have several cases of thievery to report!" A ripple of shock and anxiety passed through the crowd; as for me, I leaned forward interestedly. "Scraps of leftover rabbits have been found all around WindClan territory, but especially by the border. And they bear the scent of ShadowClan!"

The expected yowls of protests did not come. The ShadowClan cats were completely silent. Snakestar turned to Spiritstar, and spoke in a voice cracked with strain and age. "Rabbits have been found in our territory. We don't know why. We chase them, try to catch them. They run back over the Thunderpath. We have to follow them. There is a dire shortage of food in ShadowClan."

"What about the rats in Carrionplace? There are always plenty of those!" cried a burly ginger WindClan warrior. Several meows of agreement arose at his words.

"The rats are poisoned," wheezed Snakestar, breaking off in another coughing fit. He coughed and coughed until it seemed he would collapse. The gray she-cat I saw earlier bounded up to Great Rock, flanked by a large dark brown tabby tom. The she-cat pressed herself against Snakestar, while the tom meowed in a booming voice, "What Snakestar is saying is we are not thieves. Those rabbits are first sighted on our territory. Isn't it our right, as hungry hunters, to chase what is ours at the beginning?"

"How does WindClan know you are telling the truth, Raggedpelt?" hissed Spiritstar, rounding on him. "Those rabbits must have come from WindClan territory; where would they live on ShadowClan territory? I think you are trying to cover up your leader's weakness. I think you are a thief and a liar!"

Now ShadowClan was furious. Screeches of rage erupted around the clearing; they lashed their tails back and forth, hissing and spitting at the WindClan cats around them. The WindClan cats immediately turned hostile, growling, raising threatening paws. On Great Rock, Raggedpelt unsheathed his claws and looked about ready to rip Spiritstar's fur off, but Thrushstar stepped between them. "Look!" he yowled, tilting his head up to the sky. "Clouds are covering the moon. StarClan declares this Gathering to be over!"

* * *

"That was quite a Gathering, wasn't it?" Brambleberry remarked, suddenly appearing by my side. The Clan was heading back to camp, the anxious murmurings having subsided into an uneasy silence. Even though RiverClan had nothing to do with the WindClan and ShadowClan's quarrel, every one of us was tense.

"A warm, welcoming one, to be sure," I replied dryly. "Do you think WindClan will attack ShadowClan?"

The dappled she-cat shrugged. "It's possible, but it wouldn't be a wise move on Spiritstar's part. ShadowClan would just hate them even more, and what would be gained? A few measly pieces of prey."

"But that's not the point," I objected sharply. "ShadowClan was trespassing. Trespassers have to be dealt with accordingly, no matter what the cost."

Brambleberry looked surprised. "You did see the skinniness of the ShadowClan cats, didn't you, Forestpaw?"

"Of course she did, Brambleberry, but Forestpaw doesn't care about that. She is all for attacking starving, desperate Clans. She only cares that _she _is strong and comfortably fed. She hasn't the least concern for other's feelings. Didn't you know?" a lofty, disdainful voice cut in.

"Birchpaw!" scolded Brambleberry, swinging her head to face the tabby apprentice. "How can you talk about your friend like that?"

"Oh, is she here?" Birchpaw asked, gasping mockingly, making an exaggerated effort to look around for me. "Oh, _there _she is. I'm _so _sorry," she added, not sounding sorry in the least.

"Shut up and go away," I hissed, unsheathing my claws. Birchpaw gave a final heavy sigh, then trotted ahead. I watched her as she caught up to Aspenfur and whispered something in his ear. He snorted loudly, shooting a glare in my direction over his shoulder as we entered camp.

"Foxdung," I muttered, tearing up the grass under my paws in frustration. Brambleberry looked down at me, waiting for an explanation. But I ignored her and stomped to the apprentice den, landing in my nest with a loud 'thump'. When I heard Birchpaw's shrill giggle, I quickly shut my eyes. But it was a long time before sleep claimed me.

* * *

When I opened my eyes, I found myself in an strange place. Actually, it wasn't even a place; I seemed to be sitting on nothingness. I scrambled up, expecting to fall at any moment. But the drop didn't come.

I stretched one paw out tentatively, feeling what was beneath me. When I was sure it was safe, I crept forward, keeping an eye out for anything that looked familiar. Suddenly, I heard the low murmuring of voices. Peering, I managed to make out a cluster of stars in the distance. Since they were the only things visible, I decided to head towards them.

As I got closer, I realized they weren't stars-they were cats. Three sleek, muscular, glimmering cats hunched over and conversing in quiet, anxious tones. I jumped when one of them, a yellow-eyed tabby tom, abruptly threw back his head and yowled, "This is ridiculous! Why are we so worried about a simple apprentice?"

"I've already explained why, Vinetail," the black-and-white she-cat beside him meowed patiently. "It is crucial that she has that kit. I'm not sure why, but it involves the future of all the Clans."

"Well, my son is handsome and talented enough. Why shouldn't she fall for him?" demanded Vinetail.

"You know quite well why," hissed the third cat, a speckled ginger tom. "You saw the look in her eyes during the warrior ceremony. She has ambition!"

"So?"

"_So, _what if she becomes deputy?" continued the ginger tom. "She can't have kits then; it's against the warrior code."

"Be realistic, Rainstar," snorted Vinetail. "Thrushstar would be completely insane to name a rogue as his deputy."

I almost gasped out loud. They were talking about me!

"You underestimate her," the she-cat said, shaking her head. "She will make a very formidable warrior."

"And what would you know about that, Rosepool?" Vinetail asked patronizingly. "You're just a medicine cat."

Rosepool narrowed her eyes slightly, but continued in a neutral tone. "I have seen it."

"Well, even if she does have ambition, how can we interfere with young cats' love lives?" Rainstar questioned Rosepool doubtfully.

She sighed. "We can't-not directly, at least. But I'll tell Brambleberry to keep encouraging Forestpaw to make amends with Crookedpaw. After that, we can only watch and wait."

"It's unfortunate," Rainstar meowed regretfully. "She would have made an excellent leader."

* * *

I woke up in my nest in the apprentice den, breathing heavily and feeling slightly dizzy. It was still dark outside, but a faint, pinkish glow was on the horizon. Blinking a few times, I saw that Birchpaw, Loudpaw, and Crookedpaw were still sleeping peacefully.

Crookedpaw.

So StarClan wanted me to fall in love with him, too? I was supposed to just give up all my dreams and hopes for _Crookedpaw?_ Laughable. Absolutely laughable. If StarClan thought I would go along with their little plan, they were wrong. I wouldn't. I wouldn't.

**I wonder how long it will be until Forestpaw can't avoid the inevitable any longer...oops, I have to decide that, don't I? Hmm... -evil chuckle- **

**Weiver!! (I'm bored of the same old 'review') **


	9. 8: So Much Blood

**Thank you, all my lovely reviewers! You all get huggable, pouting Forestpaw plushies! :) **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors, but I own Forestpaw and, therefore, half of Silverstream! Yay!**

Chapter 8: So Much Blood

Days passed. Neither Birchpaw nor Crookedpaw talked to, hunted with, or even got near me if they could avoid it. During those times when they pointedly ignored me, I tried to tell myself that once I was leader, I wouldn't need them, wouldn't care about their coldness at all. In fact, they would be so impressed by my prowess, they would beg for forgiveness.

It was a hollow comfort.

Thistlefoot noticed my unhappiness almost instantly, but was tentative to deal with it. "Your crouch was much better yesterday," he would say softly, or, "You did that move perfectly last time." And I would reply gruffly, muttering something about lack of sleep or hunger. He wouldn't contradict me, not directly; he would simply give me a concerned glance.

Finally, he decided that I needed some new she-cat companions to hunt, talk, and fight with-namely, his two newly-apprenticed daughters, Swanpaw and Falconpaw. Swanpaw was nice enough, particularly because she didn't say much and was happy to quietly accept tips from me. Falconpaw, on the other hand, would chatter away much like Birchpaw had, except for one thing. Birchpaw listened to me a lot, but Falconpaw loved to hear her own voice and brag, brag, brag. "I'm going to be the _best_ warrior in the Clan." "I'm going to have the _most beautiful _fur in the forest." "_Everyone _is going to run from me in battle. _Thrushstar_ said so."

Today was no different. She had just finished telling Thistlefoot, Embertail (her poor mentor), Rockpelt, and I about how it was so lucky for us that she was on this patrol, because she "knew all the best stalking techniques", and was starting on her wonderful fighting skills.

"_I _can-"

"Falconpaw? Can I ask you a question?" Rockpelt asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Sure, Rockpelt," the apprentice answered eagerly.

"In the name of all the cats in StarClan, _will you shut up?!_"

Falconpaw recoiled like he had bit her. "Sorry," she murmured softly, hanging her head. Thistlefoot shot Rockpelt a dirty look.

He shrugged innocently, but when my mentor's back was turned, grinned in my direction. I purposely tossed my head and looked away.

"Oh, come on, Forestpaw," he whispered coaxingly, once Thistlefoot was safely out of earshot, "you were dying to do the same, weren't you?"

"I am not required to answer that question," I hissed.

"Oh ho ho, look who is Thistlefoot's little angel today," Rockpelt spat, unsheathing his claws.

"Put those away, Rockpelt. You know what happened last time you used them against me," I tutted, gesturing towards his face and putting on a sweet, innocent expression on my own.

Rockpelt snarled, opening his mouth to retort, but was cut off by Falconpaw's excited meow. "Hey! I smell something weird! What is it, Father?"

Thistlefoot raised his head towards the sky curiously. "It smells like ShadowClan. And blood, much blood. But how..."

His question was answered in a matter of seconds. A young ShadowClan warrior suddenly appeared on the other side of the river, limping and breathing heavily. Patches of his black fur were missing, and the rest of his pelt was stained with fresh blood. He spotted us gaping on the other shore, and gasped desperately, "Please...please, help...ShadowClan is...is being...being attacked. Wind...WindClan and ThunderClan...com..combined...please help...please help us." With that, he crumpled to the ground without a sound.

"What do we do, Thistlefoot?" Embertail exclaimed in shock, turning to my mentor.

"First of all, we can't just leave him there. Help me get him to camp." Thistlefoot looked at Falconpaw, Rockpelt, and me. "As for you three...stay here. Don't move a muscle until we get back."

Thistlefoot and Embertail swam over to where the black warrior lay, grabbed him by his scruff, and dragged him back over the stepping stones. "Remember, don't move," my mentor instructed, before heading towards camp with the injured ShadowClan tom.

We sat and waited. Rockpelt was muttering how everyone still treated him like an apprentice, Falconpaw looked scared out of her wits, and I was pacing restlessly. I wanted to be in that battle so badly, I yearned to get my teeth into those traitorous WindClan and ThunderClan cats. After waiting for a long time, I couldn't stand in any longer. "Let's go."

Rockpelt snorted. "Where?"

"The battle, you mousebrain."

Falconpaw leapt up, her eyes shining. "Can we really? Break the rules and all?"

"Yes, it's the perfect time for you to show off your amazing fighting skills," said Rockpelt sarcastically. "Are you as stupid as you look?"

"Ignore him," I meowed to Falconpaw. "There will be a lot of blood, though."

"How do you know that, rogue-ling?" sneered our pessimistic escort. "You've never even been in a _real _battle."

"It's a thing called 'common sense', idiot. Perhaps you've dreamt of it?" I hissed, glaring at him. "So, are you in or not? Cats are probably dying out there."

"I am!" squealed Falconpaw. "I want to help save them!"

Rockpelt considered. "I guess I have to go--to keep you foxdung-minded she-cats from getting your fur ripped off. Fine. I will."

"Oh, thank you, Rockpelt!" purred Falconpaw, licking his cheek ecstatically. Bewilderment appeared on the warrior's face for a moment, but he shook his head and the gruffness returned.

"Come on," I meowed, jumping smoothly into the river. "We've got no time to lose."

* * *

The battle was raging fiercely. Yowls and spitting and shrieks were heard everywhere. Fur ripped. Teeth gnashed. Blood flew. The camp was in ruins, and it was clear ShdowClan was outmatched. I saw a tortoiseshell queen sheltering her three kits in front of a torn-apart nursery, against two formidable warriors; her fur was fluffed out twice its normal size, and her teeth were bared ferociously. Two apprentices were struggling against a husky, battle-scarred tom, who had them pinned down simultaneously. Snakestar himself was huddled in a tight ball, blood streaming from his flank, coughing his life away. For a fleeting second I was terrified; I realized how stupid this idea was. What help would we be?

Obviously, Rockpelt was feeling the same, because he growled, "What good are we going to be?"

"Thistlefoot and Flametail will be here with reinforcements soon enough," I replied, not knowing whether I was lying or not. "We can fight until they do."

"Charge!" Falconpaw piped up nervously, her voice barely audible in the storm of battle-cries. I touched my tail tip to her back, purring, then joined in her yowling and we raced down to the camp.

The stench of blood was unbelievable, but even more powerful than that was the fear-scent. _ShadowClan needs help_, I reminded myself, and pounced on one of the warriors terrorizing the queen I had seen before.

She spun around, hissing in surprise. Then, seeing who I was, she sneered. "A measly little RiverClan apprentice? Shouldn't you be back at camp, cleaning out your precious elders' beddings? This is between WindClan, ThunderClan, and ShadowClan!"

"That's hardly fair, is it? We want a part in the fun!" I retorted, biting her shoulder. She yowled, and slammed an unsheathed paw on my back. I fell to the ground, choking on the dust. The she-cat laughed cruelly, sinking her teeth into my scruff. I flipped around, and pushed her off using my back legs. She was up and had me pinned down almost instantly, her paw poised to strike.

I raked my claws down her belly. Blood splattered into my eyes, but I could hear her moan in pain. She ran off, but the other two warriors grabbed me by my scruff and flung me against the bramble wall. My head screamed, and my legs thrashed out blindly. One made contact-I could hear the thud as he hit the ground. But the last warrior bit down hard on my tail and tugged. I yowled, praying that the pain would end, knowing he was looming over me, ready to bite down on my neck...

_Forestpaw._

Just die. I need to die.

_Forestpaw. Forest. I am here. We are here. _

No voices. Not her. Not him. Death. Darkness. Teeth. Blood.

_Forest, you know what to do. You _can_ do it this time. You can save these cats._

_We will help you._

No. Yes.

_Remember, Forest. Remember Thistlefoot's training..._

_We are here. We are proud of you. Come, now, Forest..._

My eyes snapped open. As if time had stood still, the warrior was still waiting to bite. Instead, I raked my claws on his face and pushed him back. Before he had time to stand up, I pounced on his back and sank my claws into his pelt. He screeched, trying to shake me off. Finally I let him go, and he bounded out of sight.

The terrorized queen whom I had saved was staring at me with inexpressible gratitude in her eyes. "Thank you so much," she meowed hoarsely, gathering her kits close to her. They turned their big, innocent eyes up to me in wonder.

"You're-" I started to say, but a heavy weight crashed onto my back. I gasped, feeling my bones crush and the breath being pushed out of me. But the weight was lifted suddenly, and I could hear angry hissing and the hurried pad of pawsteps. I looked up to see my savior.

"Forestpaw, I don't understand you," clucked Birchpaw, shaking her head. "Thistlefoot gave you explicit instructions to stay put. But then, you never obeyed explicit instructions, did you?"

"You rat!" I purred teasingly, elated to be joking with my friend again. "Did Thrushstar send a patrol?"

"Yep. Now come on, let's go send some WindClan and ThunderClan cats running home sobbing!" she cried, and we bounded back into the thick of the battle.

* * *

That night, I couldn't sleep. I padded out of the apprentice den and sat in the clearing. The stars of Silverpelt twinkled brightly. _Are there more of members of StarClan joining you tonight? _I wondered sadly. The battle had been successful, but we had left ShadowClan in shambles. Raggedpelt had refused any help. "A ShadowClan cat to the core," Birchpaw had muttered. "Except for that one," I had pointed out. The black warrior, who we now knew to be called Nightpelt, had returned to his Clan after he had finished thanking Brambleberry and Thrushstar enough.

The battle had scared me. I had never seen so many cats fighting. No. Correction: I had never seen so many cats fighting _for one another._ It frightened me how far loyalty went. I was expected to die for RiverClan. Was I prepared for that?

"Feeling alright, Forestpaw?"

Crookedpaw padded up next to me. My muscles automatically tensed, but I forced them to relax. "Yeah. Kind of. The battle was rough today."

He nodded. "Luckily, no cats were killed—that we know of, at least."

"But what about next time?" I burst out. "Next time it could be a slaughter. Next time could be so much worse. How do you deal with all this tension? Of not knowing what comes next?"

Crookedpaw gazed at me. "We put our trust in StarClan."

"But what...what if..." _What if StarClan is trying to plot your own destiny for you?_ I thought, but I couldn't talk about it now. I was all confused inside. I needed to do things one at a time.

"I'm sorry I've been such a idiot towards you, Crookedpaw," I blurted out quickly. "You were just trying to be nice, and I wasn't accepting it. I'm really, really sorry."

"I'm sorry, too, if I embarrassed you," Crookedpaw meowed softly. "Birchpaw is always telling me to be less embarrassing-it's sort of a habit, I suppose."

We laughed. "So, why are you sad?"

"Sad?" I repeated, feigning innocence. "Why would I be sad?"

His eyes were swallowing me up. "I'm not sure. You tell me. If you want, that is."

I took a deep breath. "There were these voices at the battle. When I was sure I was going to die. They...they told me what to do. I'm not crazy!" I protested.

"I didn't say you were," Crookedpaw replied. "Who did these voices sound like?"

"Well, actually, they...they sounded like my parents," I said quietly.

His eyes softened. "Did they...die?"

I nodded, feeling a lump in my throat. "There was a fight in the barn. A stupid fight; something about whether kits like me at the time, should get prey first or not. They were so loud, the Twoleg came out of his nest with a huge...thing. It made lots of smoke and noise, and it was very, very dangerous. He shouted lots of Twoleg talk, and then pointed it at the fighting cats..." I trailed off, my head aching with memory of it. Crookedpaw didn't push me.

"My father died, too, but it was a sickness. It was a moon before my apprenticeship," he said, glancing up at the stars. "My mother always said he was up there, in StarClan, watching over us all the time. That made it much easier to deal with. I bet your parents are up there, too."

I followed where he was looking, up at the velvety night sky, and I felt a bit better. I got up, feeling unexpectedly tired.

"Thank you, Crookedpaw. Good night," I said, briefly touching my nose to his cheek.

"No problem. I'm glad we're friends now."

"Me, too, Crookedpaw. Me, too."

**Ah, happy days...for now...muhahahahahaha!**

**Weiver!**


	10. 9: Spies

**Nightfire- Thanks! I try to be as descriptive as I can. You _might_ have seen a bit of Rock/Forest (teehee, I'm so naughty), and yes, some Rock/Falcon, too. You'll see how it all plays out...**

**catatheart- Sorry. I haven't read that fanfiction of yours, but since it bothered you so much, I changed Flametail to Embertail.**

**Mossface from WindClan- Hardly! :)**

**Illusionpool- Thanks!**

**SpottedHeart2646- It's perfectly okay. Thanks for the review!**

**Twitchtail13- I know, isn't she adorable? **

**And one final note--I love that Mother is getting so many favorites, but some of you favorite-ing people aren't reviewing the story at all. Please do-I really want to hear your input!**

**Disclaimer: Sroirraw sgnoleb ot Nire Retnuh.**

Chapter 9: Spies

I woke up the next morning feeling lighthearted and almost giddy. As soon as I stepped outside I was bathed in the coming sunlight; it warmed me to the tips of my fur. It seemed as if yesterday's battle had never occurred; all was peaceful and bright. Warriors, queens, apprentices, and kits alike were in the clearing stretching, yawning, and shaking the final fuzziness of sleep from their minds. Affable meows of greeting echoed all around as everyone mulled about, half-listening to Voleclaw as he organized patrols.

"Hungry?" Birchpaw asked, coming up beside me in mid-yawn. "I barely ate anything last night, I was so exhausted."

"You, of all cats, should know that 'a Clan cat must feed the Clan before herself'," I teased, rasping my tongue over her ear.

"I think we deserve an extra morsel or two, after all the amazing fighting we did yesterday," Birchpaw protested. "I _did _save your life, if you don't recall."

"You're not going to hold that over her for long, are you?" purred Crookedpaw in amusement, padding out to join us. "I'm sure Forestpaw could've knocked him out in no time."

Birchpaw flinched, undoubtedly waiting for my hostile reaction. But I just laughed. "I'm sure you are correct. Right, Birchpaw?"

She was dumbfounded, but regained her composure quickly. "Whatever you say, o wondrous fighter." As we all trotted towards the fresh-kill pile, she whispered to me, "What _happened_?Do you have bees in your brain? Are you sick?"

"Let's just say we had a misunderstanding. Everything is good now," I replied loftily. "Anyway, I thought this was what you wanted."

"Do you hear me complaining?" Birchpaw laughed, twitching her whiskers playfully. "Now let's beg Thistlefoot and Reedheart to let us devour the fattest fish before being sent patrolling all day."

Our mentors didn't let us do quite what Birchpaw had planned, but they did let us sneak in one small mouse each. "For proving your excellent battle prowess yesterday," Reedheart meowed proudly; Birchpaw shot me a smug glance.

After we finished, we were put to work. Birchpaw got sent to the elders' den for 'tick patrol', as we called it, and Crookedpaw and I joined Aspenfur and Pebbleshine on a hunting patrol. In all the time that I had spent living in RiverClan, I had grown to like Pebbleshine's cheerful, gentle manner; the way she was always ready to help if you were sad or angry, or join in your laughter when you shared something funny. In some ways, she had become a mother to me, a replacement for the one I had barely known.

Aspenfur was a whole different matter. Yes, he was quite an able warrior and you probably couldn't find a cat more loyal to his Clan, but he was also irritable, prickly, arrogant, and temperamental. He never failed to criticize my hunting style or fighting techniques, and was forever comparing me to Crookedpaw. Oh, and one other lovely detail-his mate was Larchsting. Birds of a feather flock together, indeed.

"Your stance is all wrong," he told me now, while I was perched by the river. I tried to concentrate on the wriggling fish while he continued loudly, "Your paw is too high in the air, and your shadow is looming over the river. It's-"

I flashed my paw in the water, but only came out with a wet paw. Aspenfur sighed noisily from his pile of three fish. "Apprentices these days," he meowed to Pebbleshine, shaking his head. She tactfully ignored him.

"How do you stand him?" I hissed to Crookedpaw, turning my eyes back to the river, determined to prove to Aspenfur I wasn't a useless hunter.

He shrugged. "He's not that bad. He-oh, get that one! Oh, too bad. You'll get one, don't worry. Aspenfur can be grumpy sometimes, but he's a fantastic mentor. I owe everything to him. There's another one!"

"Got it!" I exclaimed gleefully, flipping the gleaming silver fish onto the bank. It struggled for a moment, then lay still.

Crookedpaw's eyes shone; he touched his tail to my flank momentarily. "Well done. I've never seen one so big."

"You sound like a mentor," I meowed teasingly, but my chest swelled with pride at his appreciation.

His eyes shone even brighter. "I really want to be a mentor once I become a warrior. Isn't it amazing, the pride you feel when you know you're contributing to the Clan by teaching others? And," he added quietly and a tad shyly, "it's a must if I ever hope to become deputy."

A queer ache formed in my throat. "You want to become deputy? And leader?"

Crookedpaw purred. "Doesn't everyone? It's a great honor, one that surpasses all others. Think of all the good you can do for your Clan, how much they can benefit if you make wise decisions. With a good leader, a Clan can become so strong!"

I was stunned. One reason was, of course, that I didn't realize Crookedpaw had the drive to become leader. I thought he was an incredibly skilled hunter and fighter, definitely, but he had never struck me as ambitious, quiet though it was. However, the bigger reason I was stupified was his motivation for achieving the position. I had only thought of me, and how everyone would have to respect me and honor my greatness. He was putting the Clan first, not thinking of how his power could benefit himself. Did that mean he was worthier of leadership than me?

Suddenly, Crookedpaw chuckled. "When we were kits, my sisters and I would plan out our future. I would be leader, Birchpaw would be deputy, and Sorrelpaw would be medicine cat. Birchpaw and Sorrelpaw would fight for ages about their positions. It's funny, they never disputed my right as leader."

His words registered in my head. "Wait a minute, who's Sorrelpaw? I didn't know you had another sister."

"Oh." Crookedpaw's eyes clouded. "I thought maybe Birchpaw had told you. Sorrelpaw was our littermate. She drowned three, maybe four days after our apprentice ceremony. It sounds so stupid, because RiverClan cats are such excellent swimmers. But there was a storm, and the riverbed was so slippery...It was horrible. My mother was utterly devastated, it being so soon after we had lost our father. Now that I look back, it seems so long ago, even though it wasn't." He fell silent, staring into the distance.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, pressing myself against him, feeling a little bewildered. It was amazing, I reflected to myself, how little I knew about him.

"Come on, you two," Pebbleshine called from further upstream. "We're heading back to camp."

Crookedpaw picked up his fish and turned around to follow the warriors without looking at me. Still feeling a bit shocked, I did the same, but lingered around the river for a little longer, trying to sort out our conversation.

Once I cleared my head a bit, deciding that I would try and confront Birchpaw with this new information, I started to head towards camp. Suddenly, I heard a small splash behind me. I jerked my head around, pricking up my ears. Nothing. I sniffed the air, but all I smelled was a heavy scent of mud. Then, I heard another rustle and a hurried whisper.

Dropping my prey, I crouched down and crept forward very slowly towards a clump of reeds. All my muscles were tense and my heart started racing as the adrenalin filled my veins. As I got closer and closer I could smell another scent below the stench of mud...

When I was a mouselength from the reeds, a hissing, spitting blur of brown-and-white fur tumbled out and pounced on me. Razor-sharp claws dug into my shoulders and raked down my stomach. I screeched and threw all my weight into pushing her off. To my surprise, it would have taken only the slightest effort, because she toppled backwards the moment I rocked forward.

Baring my teeth, I pinned her down. Her eyes were a bright leaf green, brimming with determination. WindClan scent was all over her. "Get off me," she snarled.

"And why should I?" I spat. "You're a WindClan cat. What are you doing on our territory?"

"None of your business," she retorted, squirming under my grip. I tightened it; she was so bony and helpless it wasn't hard to do.

"I think you're spying," I meowed coldly. "And you know what happens to spies? They get taken to camp, to be dealt with accordingly."

Fear flashed briefly in her eyes, but anger quickly smothered it. "I'm not afraid, you little piece of foxdung. Do with me what you will."

"Forestpaw!" It was Crookedpaw, bounding toward me, breathless. "We caught a WindClan cat slinking in on our territory. Seems you've found one, too," he added, looking down at the she-cat.

"We have to take her to camp. Help me," I said, releasing the she-cat. She got up, giving me a hard stare. I padded on one side of her; Crookedpaw on the other.

"So you two are apprentices?" she snorted. We kept silent. She gave a hollow laugh. "Silent treatment, huh? Whatever." But she was quiet the rest of the way to camp.

* * *

"Spies?! In _our _territory? Outrageous!"

"It's true, Basilclaw. Smell him; he stinks of WindClan!"

"Keep away from me!"

"Shut up. You have no right to be here!"

"Hey, look! There's another one!"

It looked as if all the cats of the Clan had gathered to jeer at the spies. They parted to reveal a skinny gray tom with patchy, unhealthy-looking fur. He met the she-cat's eyes and hissed, "So much for your little plan!"

"Hush!" she rasped, meeting every cat's stare with her chin held high. "Where is Thrushstar?" she demanded next.

"I am here," Thrushstar rumbled icily, padding forward. He looked furious. "What are you doing here? Who are you?"

"Surely you know me?" the she-cat replied, chuckling harshly. "Brightfang of WindClan. My companion is Stormwhisker."

"Of course," Thrushstar meowed, recognition flitting in his eyes. "Now, what are you doing here?"

Brightfang didn't answer, only swung her head away.

Several hisses of spite were launched by the RiverClan cats, myself included. Thrushstar signaled for silence. "I will hold you both prisoner in camp until you reveal to me what your mission is. Be sure that Spiritstar will hear from me at the Gathering—perhaps reinforced with sharpened claws." He turned to Voleclaw and Basilclaw. "Lead them to the old hollow by the warrior den. I want at least two warriors guarding them at all times. Do not let them escape!"

**Now what could WindClan want spies in RiverClan for? You'll just have to find out...**

**Poor Crookedy. His dad is dead, one of his sisters is dead, his mother is cold and withdrawn (you'll see more of that in later chapters), and Birchpaw will...wait, I can't tell you! :) **

**Weiver! **


	11. 10: Dying

***waves* I'm back. **

**_[Disclaimer] _Yet I still don't own warriors.**

Chapter 10: Dying

"Is it true, Forestpaw?" squeaked Leafkit, her voice mixed with excitement and anxiety. She bounced around me; her tiny tabby paws could hardly keep still. "Is it true that there are two WindClan _spies_ in our camp?"

"_Yes_, Leafkit, it's true," I sighed, ruefully raising my head up from my meal. What was it with kits—couldn't they believe what they saw with their own eyes?

Leafkit lowered her eyes bashfully, ashamed of having angered me. Brackentail wrapped her tail protectively around the kit, narrowing her eyes at me. She opened her mouth as if to hiss a nasty retort, but closed it; suddenly realizing, I suppose, that young, innocent kits were within earshot.

Unfortunately, the irritable queen wasn't the only against me. "Don't be so harsh, Forestpaw. Leafkit's just curious, that's all," Birchpaw said tartly, giving a last lick to her glossy russet fur.

"Yes, Forestpaw, only curious," Graykit purred eagerly, nudging Leafkit comfortingly. Her cry was echoed by the other kits: "Curious, only curious."

"Fine, fine, you win. I'm sorry, Leafkit."

Aprubtly, Oakkit's fur bristled. Springing up, he began hissing and spitting furiously. "There are those dirty, no-good, foxdung-brained, low-lying traitors now! Come on, RiverClan, let's fight them!" A high-pitched, strangling noise came from his mouth—something I assumed he defined as a battle cry. Immediately, Brackentail's kits imitated him. Squealing and yelping, they charged towards Brightfang and Stormwhisker, who were being led to the fresh-kill pile by Larchsting and Basilclaw.

"Kits!" Brackentail reprimanded them, but only half-heartedly. She chuckled audibly at the flurry of paws that swirled around the two bemused prisoners. Larchsting and Basilclaw didn't try any harder to stop the pathetic attack. I myself was close to laughter at the sight of Stormwhisker attempting to shove puny Rainkit off his back.

"Why aren't they stopping them?" asked Birchpaw crossly, standing up.

"Who?"

"Who do you think? Anybody!"

"Hey, no one's getting hurt," I objected. "It's just harmless play-fighting. Besides, don't you find it even a bit funny?"

"No," my friend retorted. "They may be prisoners, but they should be treated with decency, if not respect."

"Birchpaw, are you insane?" I meowed, searching her face for signs of teasing. "They're spies; traitors to the warrior code! You want to treat scum like that with respect?"

"Oakkit! _Oakkit_!" Hazelcloud's furious meow surfaced over the kits' scuffling. When her son didn't respond, the tortoiseshell queen marched over, roughly grabbed him by his scruff, and dragged him a short distance away. Naturally, Oakkit howled in protest; she dropped him unceremoniously on the ground.

"What in StarClan's name are you doing?" she demanded, loudly enough for everyone in camp to turn their heads.

Mellowed by his mother's scorn, Oakkit mumbled, "They're the enemy. We were attacking them."

"Enemy they may be, but they are warriors, Oakkit, warriors! Would you leap onto Embertail, or Ivywhisker, or Thistlefoot in such a manner?" The kit shook his head mutely.

It wasn't over yet, though. "They were only playing," Brackentail interjected, more to save her own face than Oakkit's.

Hazelcloud gave her a cold stare. "Thank you, Brackentail, but I think I can discipline my own kit." Turning back to Oakkit, she commanded, "Come back to the nursery before I have to call your father."

On her way back, she caught my eye. A dawned expression came onto her face. "Oh, yes, Forestpaw. Thrushstar said that you should come to his den without delay."

Birchpaw rolled her eyes. "You sure have been visiting the almighty leader's den a lot lately," she remarked flippantly. It was her way of putting our brief argument behind us.

"Uh, excuse me? It's because I'm special, remember?" I purred, gulping down the last of my meal. "See you."

Lighthearted as I was with Birchpaw, secretly I worried as I trotted towards Thrushstar's den. The last time this had happened, he had scolded me severely about lack of respect for elder warriors. I didn't really want to endure another lecture like that—especially if it concerned Larchsting. But I hadn't been doing anything too bad lately; maybe a snide comment to Rockpelt here and there, and hissing in exasperation at Falconpaw's chatter, but nothing serious.

As I neared the den, Thrushstar himself emerged, with Ivywhisker at his shoulder. An immense weight was lifted from my conscious when it became apparent that his face was serene and composed as usual. Surely, with an expression like that, he had no dire punishment in store for me today.

"There you are, Forestpaw," exclaimed Thruststar, sounding relieved. "I wondered when you would come."

"I came as soon as I could. Hazelcloud said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, yes I do. You see, Forestpaw, we need an able-bodied cat to guard the WindClan cats, but all of RiverClan's warriors are needed for more pressing tasks. So...well, I will not mince words. I want you to be responsible for the care of Brightfang and Stormwhisker."

Stunned into silence, I blinked my eyes rapidly. My head throbbed. Be a caretaker for the prisoners? The filthy, traitorous cats who called themselves WindClan warriors? It couldn't be true. My ears must be lying to me. "Thruststar, did you say...you want me to guard the prisoners?"

His eyes were sympathetic. "Don't worry, Forestpaw. It will only be for a while. Just until we can sort out the problem."

"Will I hunt? Will I train? Will I patrol?"

"Oh, yes, but your primary concern will be the WindClan cats. And I want everything they say to be reported to me or Voleclaw. No one else. Understood?"

Taking a deep breath, I silently dipped my head. Thruststar padded away without another word, leaving me trying to grasp the meaning of his command. No more real training. No more real fighting. Just taking care of those fox-dung spies, day after day....

A raspy, cool voice brought me back to the moment. "You are friends with Crookedpaw and Birchpaw." It was a cold statement, not a friendly question.

I looked up at the senior warrior. I knew instantly where Crookedpaw had gotten his looks from: Ivywhisker too had a broad, angular head, with small but piercing amber eyes. Her fur was a bit paler than her son's, but she was larger than me and much more wiry. The one unique feature she possessed was a short scar running from her left cheek to the base of her neck. It twitched slightly as she repeated her unexpected remark.

"Crookedpaw and Birchpaw are your friends."

"Yes," I replied steadily, watching her carefully.

Ivywhisker remained impassive. "You train together."

"Yes."

She leaned very close in, keeping her eyes locked on mine. "You do not get in the way of their success," she hissed, so softly I strained to hear.

"Certainly not."

"Good." Stepping back, Ivywhisker narrowed her eyes. Suddenly, I realized how strong and formidable she was---how unlucky it would be to have her as an enemy in battle. I hoped our tense encounters wouldn't come to that.

* * *

Trouble never waited too long to find me; I realized this soon after my new "duties" began. I had to deal with two completely different cats, with opposite needs and personalities that always clashed. Brightfang mouth never seemed to close; mostly it was used to mutter foul insults and curses, directed at me or RiverClan in general. Stormwhisker sat in stony silence, glaring at anyone who spoke to him. Brightfang's bedding was always too wet; Stormwhisker's was always too dry. Brightfang wanted to sit in the sun; Stormwhisker wanted to sit in the shade. I was always too fast for Brightfang ("I need to take my time eating, apprentice!"), but never fast enough for Stormwhisker ("I needed that bedding at sunrise!").

The only thing they seemed to have in common was their hated for RiverClan. It existed for a reason I couldn't retrieve from them; thus, my reports to Thrushstar were also a failure. Every night, when I collapsed on my nest, exhausted, I wondered what kind of dastardly deed I had done to deserve this punishment of punishments.

If only I had known how much worse it was going to get.

It happened on a somber gray day, about a moon after the prisoners had arrived. The dark clouds overhead threatened to dump rain down at any moment. Most cats were inside their dens, resting; only one patrol was out. Accompanied by Birchpaw, who had graciously volunteered to assist me that day, I was fetching some prey for the WindClan cats. We didn't hear the first shriek of alarm; it was drowned out by a boom of thunder. But nothing could hide the battered form of Loudpaw, dragging himself into camp.

Dropping our prey, Birchpaw and I hurried over to our fellow apprentice—he had collapsed at the entrance. Pools of scarlet spread beneath him as he coughed persistently. Soon Brambleberry, Mudpaw, and every other cat in the Clan were at his side as well.

"Loudpaw, what happened? Who did this to you?" wailed Birchpaw, licking his ears frantically.

Struggling to keep his eyes open, Loudpaw panted, "Patrol...attacked. Am-ambush. W-w-wind Clan coming to set--"

I didn't catch the rest; my eyes had caught the fast-approaching shapes in the distance. "WindClan ambush!" I screeched. "WindClan ambush!"

Immediately, Thrushstar started shouting orders. "Voleclaw, lead the attack! Warriors and apprentices to the entrance! All warriors and apprentices to the entrance! We must not let them pass! We must not let them enter the camp!"

Adrenaline pumping through my veins, I prepared to bound forward and tear apart our enemies. Before I could, Thrushstar bent down and meowed urgently, "Forestpaw, go and make sure the prisoners don't escape."

"But, Thrushstar-"

"Do it!"

"Thrushstar, I want-"

"You dare disobey? I said go!" he hissed, shoving me behind him.

I growled in frustration as I bounded back to the medicine cat den, where I'd left Brightfang and Stormwhisker. But the only cats there were Brambleberry and Mudpaw, hurriedly gathering herbs and tending to Loudpaw.

"Where are the prisoners?" I asked, my voice raising a notch.

Mudpaw blinked. "I don't know. They weren't here when we brought Loudpaw in."

My heart raced; the prisoners had escaped, when Thrushstar had specifically told me to keep an eye on them. How idiotic; I never should have left them alone!

My paws carried me back outside, where the WindClan forces were pressing their way into our camp. Of course, I had nowhere else to go; I gritted my teeth and charged into the throng. My claws first dug into a small gray tabby, then a black and white tom; I jumped from enemy to enemy, not caring whom I fought; my only goal was that I should sink my fangs into every treacherous WindClan ambusher that had trespassed on RiverClan territory.

Unlike the previous battle, everything was almost a blur. Perhaps my guilty conscience made it so; perhaps not. What I do know was the clearest moment in the struggle was when I had pinned down a WindClan apprentice half my size. He thrashed about helplessly, and his eyes betrayed his enormous fear. I snarled, pushing down on his chest even harder. Then, a familiar black tom caught my eye.

Thistlefoot was wrestling with a tabby WindClan she-cat, snapping his teeth furiously and swiping at every part of her he could reach. She dodged him effortlessly every time, and at one point latched her claws on his back. Thistlefoot ran around, attempting to throw her off, but she held on tightly. He stopped a moment to catch his breath, and she took immediate advantage. After releasing her grip, she raked her claws down the right side of his body.

Instead of leaving him defeated, she snatched his throat in her fangs, threw him on the ground, and leaped on top of his defenseless form. She looked around in triumph, and saw me staring at her in horror. When her shining green eyes met mine, I abruptly realized who was about to murder my mentor.

"Brightfang!" I screeched, releasing the apprentice I held down. In one bound I knocked her over; blinded by fury, I brought my claws down on her face. Blood leaked into Brightfang's eyes, clouding her sight. Even with that disadvantage, she was still too strong for me. Her hind legs pushed me back , sending me coughing in the dust.

My vision slowly blurred as I heard Spiritstar yowl, "Back! Success, WindClan! Back to camp!" Everything in front of me merged together, creating a colorless, shapeless mass. All sounds were dimming to a low hum; my own pain was diminishing bit by bit. I sensed my whole body shuddering, yet I could feel nothing.

This had to be what my parents went through, because of me.

This had to be what Thistlefoot wasn't going through, because of me.

I managed to mouth the word I was dreading.

Then the cold, crushing darkness swallowed me up entirely.

_Death._

**Of course, you know whether or not she lives or dies. It has to be obvious. **

**So it isn't much of a cliffhanger. **

**Still, who knows what will happen when she wakes....**


	12. 11: Worthy Warrior

**Disclaimer: Warriors isn't mine. **

Chapter 11: Worthy Warrior

_Blood..._

_Sweat..._

_Tears..._

"Is she awake?"

"I think I saw her ear twitch!"

"_That's_ no proof. It could be a reflex."

"Well, at least it shows she's alive!"

"You could tell that from--hey, I think she is moving!"

"Did you hear that whimper? Forestpaw, Forestpaw, can you hear us?"

"Can you speak?"

"Look, her eyes are opening!"

Groaning, I blinked my eyes several times, trying to adjust to the bright light in front of me. Slowly, I recognized the distressed faces of Mudpaw, Crookedpaw, and Birchpaw hovering above me. Birchpaw purred in pure delight as I mumbled, "Huh? What happened? Where's the battle?"

"The battle is over, Forestpaw," Crookedpaw explained gently. "WindClan got what they wanted. Brightfang and Stormwhisker escaped."

"No!" I sat up, bewildered. "How could we have lost? How could--"

Mudpaw pushed me back into my nest, saying, "RiverClan was completely unprepared. They were clever, Forestpaw; they planned everything perfectly. No one could have prevented it."

_I could have_, I thought bitterly. Hopefully, I asked, "Was I the only one injured?"

All of their faces became grave and serious, and no one spoke. After a few moments, Crookedpaw murmured, "No, far from it. Pebbleshine, Swanpaw, and Reedheart have some wounds, but nothing they won't recover from."

"Who will train you, Birchpaw?" I asked the brown tabby she-cat.

Her face lightened a bit, but her voice was shy as she answered, "Actually, Forestpaw....while you were unconscious, Thrushstar insisted that a warrior ceremony take place for Crookedpaw and I. I' m not exactly sure why....we tried to convince him not to, but he didn't relent. So....I'm actually Birchfrost, and Crookedpaw is Crookedjaw."

"Um....wow," I said, not sure whether to be happy or horribly disappointed. "That's...that's great, Birchfrost. I'm really....really happy for both of you." Trying to ignore the writhing in my stomach, I added half-jokingly, "I guess Thistlefoot and I will have to limp around training unattended."

Birchfrost's whole form seemed to sag before my eyes. Her shoulders dropped; her ears drooped; her eyes suddenly filled with anguish and sympathy. She opened to her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

"What?' I asked anxiously, looking to Crookedjaw for the answer. "What is it?" He shook his head in mute sadness.

"Forestpaw," Mudpaw meowed softly. "Thistlefoot is dead. We found his body at the end of the battle. He lost too much blood; we couldn't save him."

The pit in my stomach transformed into an enormous gaping hole. I felt like someone had ripped me half. I blinked several times, trying to sort out the frantic screaming in my head. _Thistlefoot is dead...Thistlefoot is dead....Thistlefoot is dead!_

"Ah, I see our brave little apprentice is awake."

Thrushstar had entered the den, putting on the same facade as everyone else: cheerful and light on the outside, but broken and depressed on the inside. "Hello, Forestpaw. How are you feeling?"

"Better, thanks." Whose voice was coming out of my mouth? How could my voice still be working? How could I be still living, with Thistlefoot lying stiff and unmoving under the very ground I walked on?

The RiverClan leader minced no words. "I'm sure Crookedjaw and Birchfrost have told you of their ceremony. Don't worry; if you're well enough, I can perform yours tonight."

He thought I was worried about the _ceremony? _"That would be great, Thrushstar. Thank....thank you so much."

Mudpaw, sensing I no longer needed his supervision, retreated to take care of other patients. Birchfrost gave me a comforting lick on the cheek, asking if I needed anything. After my shaky refusal, she left. Crookedjaw followed suit, after lightly touching his tail to my pelt.

From my nest, I could see the pale, battered form of Swanpaw curled beside Pebbleshine gray-flecked pelt. Mother and daughter were both asleep. Were they aware of what awaited them when they awoke? Had Swanpaw heard of her father's demise; did Pebbleshine realize how her mate was drained of every drop of blood left in his body?

Most of all, did they know it was my fault?

* * *

Evening came: the fiery sun gradually dipped beneath the horizon, leaving a smooth trail of scarlet, orange, and magenta. The colors of blood. The colors of death.

Brambleberry was at my side as we made our way towards the middle of camp, in case I collapsed again. She was taking no chances. "Must I have my ceremony now?" I asked her, unable to tear my eyes away from the sky.

As always, the medicine cat answered the questions swarming in my mind rather than out of my mouth. "All things must come to an end sometime, dear Forestpaw. A heroic death in battle is one of the finer, more honorable ways life can end."

"But it didn't need to happen!"

"How can you know that?" queried Brambleberry, a bit sharply. "You are not StarClan, nor the powers higher than them. How can you know whether he was meant to die that very way or not?"

I stared at her, suddenly very much aware of what she was saying. "Did you know?"

Brambleberry turned away, saying nothing.

"Did you know Thistlefoot was going to-"

"Cats of RiverClan, it is time for one of our apprentices to receive her warrior name," Thrushstar yowled, interrupting my question. "Her mentor, Thistlefoot, has not survived to assure us of her worthiness, but I, as leader of RiverClan, vouch for her, as I have seen how she has grown since she came to us."

Brambleberry prodded me towards the RiverClan leader. I locked my eyes on his face as he continued, "I, Thruststar, leader of RiverClan, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down upon this apprentice. She has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, and I commend her to you as a warrior in her turn. Forestpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and to protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

This was the moment. Ever since Rockpelt's ceremony, this was the moment I had dreamed about, plotted about. My first step on the way to becoming leader. I had almost forgotten my ambition since I was forced onto guard duty. But the renewed remembrance of it gave me the strength to meow gravely, "I do."

"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Forestpaw, from this moment you will be known as Forestcloud. StarClan honors your strength and determination, and we welcome you as a full warrior of RiverClan."

Thrushstar leaned forward to touch noses with me, but his eyes were unreadable. I turned stiffly towards the Clan, holding my head up high as they chanted, "Forestcloud! Forestcloud! Forestcloud!" Birchfrost's voice rose clearly above the others, her eyes shining with pride.

"As is tradition, Forestcloud will hold vigil and guard the camp tonight." Thrushstar inclined his head towards me slightly before rejoining the crowd below him. I followed, but not quick enough to avoid a solemn-faced Crookedjaw appearing in front of my face. "Congratulations, Forestcloud."

"Yeah...I should probably be going now," I replied, beginning to walk to the camp entrance. Crookedjaw blocked my way, his face only a whisker-length from mine.

"You're not going to go back to that I-despise-Crookedjaw routine now that we're warriors, are you?" he asked, a smile playing on his face.

"No!" I laughed for the first time that day. "Of course not, you big lump of fur--you're my friend."

Now it was his turn to be evasive. "Well...yeah, that's kind of what....what I wanted to talk to you about." He took a deep breath. "Forestcloud, I..."

"Crookedjaw! Crookedjaw!" Birchfrost called, bounding up to us. "Ivywhisker wants to talk to you. Now."

"It's okay," I encouraged him hurriedly, relieved at the distraction; I had an uncomfortable feeling about where he was going to go with his little speech. "I'll see you both tomorrow. Don't expect me to be more than half-awake, though."

Birchfrost winked at me. "Have fun, warrior."

* * *

The warm, color-dappled evening quickly turned into a glossy black night as I sat silently, looking out at the river from afar. So many memories were surfacing back tonight--memories of coming to RiverClan, memories of early training, memories of the good times I had with Thistlefoot. Even a far-off, blurry memory of my mother lying at my side, licking my head tenderly, rose up among all the others.

It was too quiet. Of course, the river was swirling; slapping the rocks; singing its sweet lullaby, but that was not the noise I longed for. But was it really noise I wanted? Glancing around to see if any cat was stirring, I slowly stood and padded around the border of camp, reaching a small secluded area shielded by a ring of ferns and reeds.

The burial ground.

It was pretty, I guess, but the thought of generations of cats' remains resting beneath the flowers and grass detracted from the beauty. Was it my imagination, or did I hear them whispering, cajoling me?

In the darkness, I could barely distinguish the newest plot, far in the corner. Cryptically wondering how far under he lay, I crept to Thistlefoot's grave. As I lay a paw on the fresh earth, something pricked my foot. Crouching down, I saw a thistle, its pink bud nearly swallowed by the blackness surrounding it.

Was this how they marked the graves? I craned my neck to see the one beside Thistlefoot's. A blue feather perched neatly on top of the grass. It must have been a cat named Blue-something, or Feather-something....

I could see the first rays of sunlight glowing on the horizon. Dawn was approaching. My vigil was over, but I didn't want to leave. Settling down between the feather grave and Thistlefoot's, I began to drift off to sleep. And it might've been my imagination, but I swear I saw a flash of black fur out of the corner of my eye.

**Nothing much to say...kind of a soppy chap, with some CrookedxForest hints mixed in. I plan to update this story every week, and by that schedule, I should be finished by the end of June. So don't go away---there's still a lot of story left!**

**Oh, and per Lilly's request, I will squeeze Bluekit in the next chapter, and I'm actually quite excited about it....let's just say it involves some serious foreshadowing! :)**


	13. 12: An Apprentice

**Disclaimer: W-a-r-r-i-o-r-s i-s n-o-t m-i-n-e**

Chapter 12: An Apprentice

"Tired, much?" Pebbleshine whispered in my ear. I shot a sideways glance at her; nothing but concern and affection filled her eyes.

"I've been worse," I answered quietly, trying to focus on the glittering river ahead of us. It was the truth, though; it had been several days since Thistlefoot's death, and my spirit had somewhat returned. Out of pity, I suspected, Thrushstar had assigned me to lead a border patrol that morning. Yet I did feel a sliver of pride creeping its way into my heart when I accepted the task.

To join me, I'd planned to choose three cats who company I more or less enjoyed. Crookedjaw's place was assured by my quick forgiveness for his obviously mistaken advances, and I was comforted by his watchful, alert face as he padded next to me. Pebbleshine had healed rapidly from her battle wounds, but it was clear that she wasn't done mending the damage to her heart. While on the patrol I meant to apologize to her, but I couldn't quite muster up the courage. Her expression was so tender and warm at the moment that I felt unworthy to ruin it.

The third cat was meant to be Birchfrost, but she had been mysteriously absent during the last few times I searched for her. _Probably too excited about being able to go out without a mentor's eye fixed on her, _I guessed wryly, but still, I was disappointed. Instead, I asked her former mentor, Reedheart, to join us. He had accepted without a word, but now he had slowed down so he was many tail-lengths behind us. The gray-and-white warrior obviously had much more seniority than me; was he simply angry I was chosen to lead the patrol?

"I think we need to renew the scent markers over by that part of the river," Crookedjaw suggested, pointing his tail to a section of the river that was blocked off by a lone willow tree.

After a few moments of silence, I suddenly realized that three pairs of eyes were fixed on me, waiting for my decision. Clearing my throat, I nodded. "It would be best to cover the whole river. How about you and I go the upper half, and Pebbleshine and Reedheart take the bottom half?"

Pebbleshine and Reedheart exchanged an unreadable glance, but both nodded and headed downstream side-by-side.

"Saved you again," Crookedjaw murmured teasingly as we made our way in the opposite direction. I growled in a mock menacing manner, bounding up ahead of him. However, as in our apprentice days, he was swifter than me; before long his paws were pounding alongside mine. Grinning, I bared my teeth and broke into a sprint of breakneck speed, reveling in the blast of wind that hit my face.

But my friend had a little surprise in store for me. Out of nowhere, a powerful force shoved me from behind, causing me to trip and fall onto the muddy riverbed. Sticky, disgusting mud grabbed onto my fur, quickly drying it into unseemly clumps. Crookedjaw's laughter rang out strongly as I spat and clambered up to face him, disheveled and disoriented.

"You're going to pay dearly for that," I hissed, unsheathing my claws. Before I could do anything, we both heard a piercing scream from quite far downstream. Without a word, we rushed to the source.

Pebbleshine was pinned down by two ragged ginger toms, bravely yowling and spitting underneath their suffocating grips. Crookedjaw immediately tackled one of them, bringing him crashing into the dust, and as soon as Pebbleshine was free, she lashed out at the other one.

Reedheart was surrounded by not one, not two, but three battle-fit cats, their tails whipping back and forth menacingly. The warrior was doing his best, growling and spinning around so he wouldn't be caught by surprise, but I noticed his leg was dragging behind him. _You're so stupid, Forestcloud! _I mentally slapped myself. _He wasn't so far behind because he was sulking; he still has some sore battle injuries!_

One of the cats advancing on Reedheart, a skinny gray she-cat, launched herself at him with an earsplitting shriek. The other two followed suit, crushing Reedheart underneath their weight. With a furious yowl, I leapt and landed on a dark tabby tom, sinking my teeth into his shoulder. Reeling backwards, he used his last bit of strength to toss me off his back. My muscles were getting the familiar rush of adrenaline as I quickly counterattacked, slashing his cheek. Our eyes met for a brief instant; his were a dark amber, alight with crazed fury. I was taken aback for a moment. Was it my imagination, or did he look somewhat familiar?

My second of hesitation was my second of weakness; the tabby grinned sinisterly as my head snapped backwards sharply. Neck aching, I lay panting on my back, looking up at a scarred, smirking face I'd hoped never to see again.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't little Bushy. My, you've grown up. We thought you were dead for sure, after you ran off on us like that," Lester purred in honeyed tones, tracing the stripes on my face with a single claw. "But instead you joined the packs of 'civilized ones'! How sweet. Isn't that sweet, Ozzy?"

The dark tabby whom I'd had cornered only a few moments previously leaned over Lester's shoulder and spat in my face. "Very sweet," Ozzy growled as I snarled in disgust.

"Lester, we've got all of them. The she-cat is unconscious; Spark and Flint have got the two toms under control," the gray she-cat reported, appearing at Lester's side. I recognized her as Sierra, one of my mother's sisters. Ha. "Sister" wouldn't be the word to describe her. _They couldn't have been more different, _I thought nastily, glaring at me. _Mother was sleek, kind, loving. Sierra always smelled like cow dung and adored sucking up to Lester. _Obviously _that_ hadn't changed.

However, her idol didn't pay the least attention to her news. "Look, Sierra," he cajoled, not taking his eyes off my furious face. "Look who we have here. It's your beloved niece, Forestbush. You remember her mother surely? And her extremely negligent, stupid, 'handsome' father, who quite enjoyed his popularity among the young she-cats....even when he had a mate and daughter to take care of...."

Sierra narrowed her eyes, fixing me with an icy glare. If her intention was to keep me from challenging his insult, it didn't work in the least. Although the remark about my father pierced me the deepest, I was too hurt to retort to it. "My name is not 'Forestbush'!"

"Oh?" A cocky grin spread across Lester's face, proving I'd fallen into his trap. "I thought these 'civilized' cats gave their slaves two-part names. You did keep the cherished name your parents picked out for you, didn't you, even when you joined these rascals? What was the other part of your name? Rat? Fink? Skunk? _Coward_?" He accentuated the last word with a couple of crushing kicks to my ribs. "Well, which is it, Forest? What is your name?"

Trying to blink away the tears of pain threatening to overflow, I responded in a horse whisper. "Forestcloud."

Harsh laughter burst out of the rogues' throats. "Forestcloud?" Lester repeated gleefully, thoroughly relishing the ashamed expression on my face. "Forestcloud? Well, that's a proper name, that is. Proper for a dainty litter liar!" Another sharp blow to my ribs; his eyes turned dark with anger, silencing the chuckles. After studying me for a few seconds, he snapped his head towards Sierra. "Kill her. Kill them all, for good measure. We need to let those Clan cats know what we're here for."

His companions nodded briskly. Ozzy followed him as they ambled out of my eyesight, presumably to murder Reedheart, Pebbleshine, and Crookedjaw. The mere thought of my Clanmates' throats being torn out, their bodies left rotting and tattered until other warriors found them, made me tremble with rage. With a wary glance at Sierra, whose eyes had longingly traveled after Lester, I scrambled up to my feet and knocked her on the ground instead. The others rogues whirled around, but I had gotten the element of surprise I desired; within moments, I had raked my claws on each of their pelts, leaving them blinded by their own spurting blood.

Instead of the customary Clan command of "retreat", Lester snarled furiously and simply scampered off, the other despicable rogues at his tail. I was left panting heavily, heart racing and body aching, claws sunk a least a mouselength in the soft dirt. Realizing I had won, I hurriedly checked the condition of my Clanmates. Pebbleshine had indeed been knocked out, but was still breathing faintly. Reedheart looked as if he would collapse any second, so I rushed to support him with my shoulder.

Crookedjaw padded over, blood dripping from a gash on his cheek. "That was amazing. You were very brave, Forestcloud." As he spoke, he moved to take the burden of Reedheart, but I shook my head.

"I can take him. You carry Pebbleshine."

"Of course." Much to my embarrassment, Crookedjaw dipped his head, new respect glowing in his eyes. Was this what it felt like to be deputy? I wasn't so sure I wanted that power anymore, if I had to confront my past constantly, as I did today.

* * *

"....and so, finally, when he'd finished praising you, and telling me over and over how thankful I must be to have a friend like you-"

"Why did you tell him in the first place? You weren't even there!"

"Well, I got a good enough description from Crookedjaw. One that was, mind you, woven with boundless admiration and awe. You're as precious as StarClan to him now."

"Hmph. Why didn't he tell Thrushstar himself, then?"

"Does it matter? Forestcloud, you've got half the Clan drooling at your paws!"

"What a lovely picture, Birchfrost. Thank you."

"Shut up. You know what I mean. Anyway, if you'd pipe down for a minute, I can tell you the really good news!"

"Oh, I can't imagine it. Hmmm, let's see....Voleclaw is so wrapped up in hopeless reverence and adoration for me that he wants me to have his kits?"

"Close."

"Seriously?"

"You mousebrain! The day Voleclaw adores _you_, I'll sprout wings, fly over to ShadowClan teritory, and eat frogs until I vomit."

"Care to back up that bet?"

"Stop changing the subject. The real news is Oakkit's apprentice ceremony is today....and you'll never guess who Thrushstar chose to be his mentor!"

"You."

"As if. Come on, guess again."

"Crookedjaw."

"Stop playing dumb, Forestcloud. It's you!"

"Me?"

"That's what I said."

"_I'm _going to mentor Oakkit? _The _Oakkit? The Most-High-Esteemed-Snobby-Son-of-The-RiverClan-Leader Oakkit?"

"Please don't make fun of me. It's great! This is the opportunity you've been itching for since you came to RiverClan."

"And how, may I ask, did you come by this knowledge?"

"What? Your ambition or your amazing almost-mentorness?"

"My....what did you call it? Ambition?"

"A lot of things come out when one is asleep, young Forestcloud. What kind of things do you dream about, anyway? Sounds interesting."

"Oh my.....holy foxdung.....Birchfrost, you...."

"I'm just kidding! Ha, you should've seen the look on your face! No, actually, it's obvious. To me, anyway. I'm your best friend, remember? I 'read your mind.'"

"Ha ha. You're hilarious. Did you say the ceremony is tonight?"

"Uh-huh. Actually, it's starting really soon. Hey, hey, relax! Groom yourself first. And don't bother waiting up for me...I've got a cough I want to see Brambleberry about."

* * *

Without much of an elaborate ceremony (at least, not any more than for a regular apprentice), I, Forescloud, indeed became the mentor of Oakpaw, the reddish brown son of Thrushstar. Meows of congratulation were still ringing in my ear when I went to sleep that night. My jubilation and pride was shortly snatched away from me the next morning, however, when I was rudely awakened at dawn.

"Forestcloud is la-a-a-a-zy, Forestcloud is la-a-a-a-azy. Get up, get up, get up! I want to hunt! I want to hunt!"

"Oakpaw," I mumbled, swatting him away with my eyes half-open, "why, for the love of StarClan, are you up already?"

Much to my disappointment, Oakpaw sat up, took a breath, and proceeded to list the (annoyingly) logical reasons for his intrusion. "Loudpaw was up a long time ago, and his shuffling woke me up. I _tried _to go back to sleep, but Falconpaw's snoring kept me awake. Then Swanpaw-"

"Alright, alright, I get it." Stretching, I clambered out of my nest. After a shot of rapid grooming, I braced myself for his next outburst. "What would you like to do?"

"The river! The river!" Oakpaw squealed, immediately bounding out of the warriors' den at breakneck speed.

Seeing my openmouthed stare, Embertail, mentor of Falconpaw, chuckled lightly, "You'll get used to it."

_I certainly hope so_, was my silent response as I dashed out of camp. Oakpaw was quick for an overgrown kit; he was perched at the bank, peering over into the river when I finally reached his side. "Hazelcloud made me promise that I'll give her the first one I catch," he told me excitedly, entranced by the glimmering silver fish.

I snorted. "First you have to know _how _to catch one." Knowing that I finally had his full attention, I cleared my throat. "The most important thing you have to remember is to avoid letting your shadow hover over the wa-"

A loud splash, followed by a screech of distress, interrupted my lesson. Both Oakpaw and I raised our heads and searched for the source of the sound. It wasn't hard to find; a tiny blue-gray head was bobbing above the pounding current, its jaws opened in a desperate scream.

Before I could tell Oakpaw to remain on the riverbank, my stupid apprentice had launched himself into the swirling river. He was a surprisingly strong swimmer, but there was no way he could grab the kit and still remain above water. Realizing that yelling at him would do no good, I slipped easily into the water, propelling myself towards them.

When I reached Oakpaw, the kit was dragged fully underwater. I felt Oakpaw's muscles tense as he prepared to dive, but I growled loudly to stop him. Instead, I plunged beneath the waves and locked my teeth around the sinking kit's scruff. She wheezed and gasped as I swum to the other side of the river and released her, climbing up onto the bank myself afterwards. Oakpaw licked the shivering kit as I shook thousands of droplets off my coat.

"What were you _doing_?" I demanded as soon as I was relatively dry, noticing she smelled strongly of ThunderClan. "You should know better than to go near the river!"

Oakpaw nodded solemnly in agreement as the little blue-gray scrap meowed, "I was curious. My mother told me there were lots of pretty fish in the river, so I wanted to look. I didn't mean to fall in!" she added defensively, as if we had suspected her of doing so all along.

"You're from ThunderClan, aren't you? Where is your mother? What's your name?"

"My name is-"

"Bluekit!" a distraught voice yowled from the forest. A pale gray queen, flanked by a pair of tabby warriors, emerged from behind a few trees. When she saw Bluekit, she rushed over, nuzzling and warmly licking the sodden kit. "Where were you? We were looking everywhere! You've got the entire Clan in a panic! How could you run off like that? Oh Bluekit, my Bluekit...." Her words melted into a relieved purr; she failed to notice Oakpaw or me in the slightest.

This wasn't the case with the ThunderClan warriors. The larger one stepped forward menacingly, his eyes narrowed warily. "How did _our_ kit end up in _your_ territory?"

"Who said she was in our territory?" I retorted cooly. "Your precious kit was drowning in the river. If I were you, I would be thanking us, not accusing us."

"Leave them alone, Thistleclaw," Bluekit's mother snapped, pausing from comforting her kit. "I'm sure no honorable RiverClan warrior would steal a kit. If she says Bluekit was in danger, I believe her. Look at how soaked the poor thing is!" Her yellow eyes softened as her gaze traveled over Oakpaw and me. "Thank you for rescuing her. I am in your debt."

Oakpaw's chest puffed out proudly, arrogant thing that he was. "Well, you've had quite an adventure for your first day," I whispered sarcastically as we swam back to our territory. "Angered your mentor beyond belief, saved a kit, swam, and encountered enemy warriors. I'd say that was enough, wouldn't you?"

The little fox merely grinned, his eyes alight with mischief. "That was only the morning, Forestcloud."

**Sorry for the broken promise about updating. However, next week is my last week of school, so I definitely will be updating more often soon. Review! :)**


	14. 13: Birchfrost's Secret

**Disclaimer: Don't own it. Still. **

Chapter 13: Birchfrost's Secret

Training progressed well for Oakpaw and me. The reddish brown tom proved to be responsible, reliable, and eager to learn anything I threw at him. Not quite being the hyperactive, fidgety apprentice I'd first thought him to be, Oakpaw's favorite place was the river. On questioned why, he simply told me, "It's quiet and peaceful. It gives me space to think." Solemn words for such a young cat, maybe, but Oakpaw was full of surprises and hidden wisdom.

For example, I'd vigorously worked with him on a particular fighting move that had been a favorite of Thistlefoot's. It involved sliding under your opponent's belly when you were pinned down, and required a precise amount of twisting and perfect timing. Several attempts later, we had made no progress at it. Much to my later mortification, I stomped around the clearing, cursing StarClan under my breath, while Oakpaw merely sat, looking thoughtful.

After a few moments, he raised his voice hesistantly. "Uh, Forestcloud....what if we tried it _this_ way?" I inquired what that way might be, and he pointed out the rocky terrain we were practicing on. If we moved to a grassier area, he reasoned, it would be easier for him to slip under me. Then, later, when he had mastered the act, we could try it on tougher ground.

Simple as it seemed, Oakpaw's method actually did the job. The next day he was slipping and sliding everywhere, catching me by surprise and yanking (accidentally, of course) a few small clumps of fur off my back. It was that kind of straightforward thinking that helped his skill steadily increase.

Despite the fact that Oakpaw's training was going so well, I felt something was amiss in my life. Remarkably, for once it was not really Crookedjaw. The pale tabby tom was doing well in the eyes of the Clan, rapidly gaining respect among the senior warriors. Only seldom did he get a dubious gleam in his eye when he glanced at me. Even better, he confided in me his desire that Thrushstar would choose him as a mentor for one of Brackentail's kits, who were almost ready to leave the nursery. I shared in his hope, partly because I'd felt sort of guilty having an apprentice while he did not. Anyone with eyes could tell that Crookedjaw was a higher qualified mentor than me; it was just dumb luck that placed Oakpaw in my care.

No, Crookedjaw was not worrying me. Neither was Larchsting, however insufferable she had become since joining the nursery. The lovely queen never failed to give me a sneer as she paraded around camp, complaining loudly about the heat and lack of prey she was receiving. She got so horrible that I even felt sorry for Aspenfur, the prospective father. He spent most of his days running petty errands for his irritable mate. Birchfrost would have laughed to see the pathetic look on his face when he heard Larchsting's whiny meow.

Ah, yes. That was what was missing in my cheery life. Birchfrost.

Sharing tongues; patrols; hunting; I barely saw her at all. Was she was too busy, or only angry that I'd gotten an apprentice before her? Neither option seemed characteristic of my best friend. She had vanished when the first rays of sunlight peeked through the roof of the warriors' den, and on most days, I wouldn't get close to her until she flopped down on her nest, supposedly exhausted. Even then, when I tried to speak to her, she mumbled and rolled over to face the wall. During the day, between training Oakpaw and regular warrior duties, my hurt and puzzlement didn't occupy my mind as much. However, when I settled into my nest for the night and gazed at her sleeping form across the way, my bafflement gnawed away at me.

Following an almost sleepless night wondering what was going on, I decided to take some action. Oakpaw informed me that he felt a bit tired, so I assured him we would only do simple, light lessons today; scent-identifying would suffice. We trotted to the bridge that crossed over the river; RiverClan's only means of travel to Fourtrees. Birchfrost repeatedly let me know that this was her favorite place in the entire territory, because from here you could see the river wind into the enormous falls. Thus, I had good reason (or so I hoped) to keep an eye out for her here.

Oakpaw proceeded to sniff every inch of the bridge and edge of the river, calling out all the different scents he found, but I barely listened. My eyes were straining for any sign of my friend, and I went as far as the beginning of the bridge, peering out into the distance. When I spotted a familiar brown shape moving down the path, I silently congratulated myself for cornering her at last. Peculiarly, though, another figure was at her side, and for some reason this made me instantly suspicious. I motioned for Oakpaw to hide behind a large boulder not far away; naturally, he was confused, but the look on my face must have been enough, because he scampered there without protest. As soon as Birchfrost and her companion were close enough to see (or, if I was honest with myself, to eavesdrop on), I joined my apprentice behind the speckled gray mass.

Birchfrost spoke first, her voice breathless with joy. "That was amazing. Your territory is so beautiful....not like I imagined."

"Yeah, well, all the other Clans think of us as 'dark' and 'evil', so that's what they imagine our home to be like." The reply belonged to an unfamiliar voice, one that sounded shy and rather youthful. Nevertheless, I didn't like the familiar way he spoke the next sentence to my friend. "But I wanted to make sure _you_ knew differently."

The subsequent laugh from Birchfrost was odd as well: sweet and coy, as if she was immensely pleased by his tone. "I'll have to show you _my _territory next time."

"We won't get caught?"

"Has that ever stopped us before?" A strange silence followed Birchfrost's tender words, and I couldn't restrain my curiosity any more. Craning my head slightly over the rock, I gasped. My friend, the one who had promised to be loyal to her Clan no matter what, was grossly entwined with a skinny, scruffy black tom. They were purring so forcefully that even Oakpaw, whose eyes were shielded from the sight, cringed. If all this wasn't enough, the whistling wind carried a putrid smell to my nose. The filthy tom stank---of ShadowClan.

Hissing, I launched myself over the rock and landed with a thud in front of the pair. Both withdrew from their embrace; Birchfrost's reflexively unsheathed her claws, growling, while the tom shrank back fearfully. Oakpaw sprang out, boldly spitting in the faces of the traitors. My eyes were narrowed to slits, but when Birchfrost realized who I was, she relaxed and put away her claws. Her "friend" didn't share her faith in me; he pressed himself closer to her, glaring at Oakpaw and me.

"It's okay, Nightpelt," Birchfrost meowed soothingly, keeping her eyes locked on me. "It's just my friend, Forestcloud, and her apprentice Oakpaw."

"I wouldn't ease up your defenses so quickly," I snarled, raising an unsheathed paw. "Traitor."

Unbelievably, the brown tabby warrior laughed. "Forestcloud, I'm not sharing any Clan secrets with Nightpelt. Heck, I don't even know any. We're not plotting anything. I'm not a traitor." As she calmly spoke her defenses, she padded up to me and gently lowered my paw. Staring straight into my eyes, she murmured, "You believe me, don't you?"

At that moment I knew she was telling the truth. My breathing slowed to an ordinary rate, and I let my fur fall back into its normal position. In spite of that, my apprentice wasn't convinced. Daringly, he flattened his ears and crept towards the one called Nightpelt. "That doesn't explain why you're out here with him." Poor Oakpaw. He was so innocent in the ways of the world. _I _could clearly tell what was going on here, although I couldn't begin to understand why, when, or how it occurred. However, I wouldn't give them the relief of having me explain it to Oakpaw.

I gazed at Birchfrost expectantly, and she sighed heavily. "Well....Nightpelt and I are in love."

The small statement blew Oakpaw away. "B-b-but he's from Sh-sh-sh-shadowClan!" he stammered, backing up at fast as he could. His bewildered eyes flickered from Birchfrost, to Nightpelt, and back to Birchfrost again. "That's against the warrior code!"

"Oakpaw, I think you'd better go back to camp." Lowering my eyes so they could directly meet his, I continued in a deeply grave tone, "Birchfrost is my best friend, and I know what she has done is wrong, but you must never, ever tell anyone about what happened today. It will be fixed soon, don't worry, but in the meantime you must keep your mouth shut. It would mean a lot to me."

It was obvious that Oakpaw wasn't entirely convinced, but the dedication and obedience that he strived to give me won him over. Never again would he be convinced of Birchfrost's loyalty, but I knew he would trust me with his life, no matter what. Finally nodding briefly, Oakpaw darted away, leaving the confrontation business to me.

No words were wasted by me. "How could you, Birchfrost? How did this happen?"

"Let me explain. Remember that ShadowClan cat that warned us of the battle, the one where ThunderClan and WindClan attacked in a combined force? Nightpelt was that cat, don't you recall?"

"Then aren't you a bit _old_ for her--even though you sound like a two-moon old kit?" I asked Nightpelt nastily, glowering at the tom. He seemed to have recovered some of his pride and courage, now that he knew we weren't enemies. Entirely enemies, that is. Arrogance smothered his face; he thought he was too good to answer me, did he?

Birchfrost stepped between us, giving me one of her looks. "Forestcloud, Nightpelt was barely a warrior then. But it doesn't matter. Shortly before you and I became warriors, I met him at a Gathering. We got to talking, and....well, we have a lot in common." Disregarding my contemptuous snort, she added, "We've been meeting in secret for a while, but I didn't tell you because I knew you would react like this."

"What am I supposed to say? 'Congratulations'? 'I'm so happy for you'? Birchfrost, even my apprentice knows what you're doing is dishonorable!" Shaking my head, I tried a different tactic. "What would Thrushstar do if he knew? Just imagine Crookedjaw's face....and StarClan forbid your _mother _catches wind of this...."

Judging from her widened eyes, these possibilities hadn't crossed her mind. "You're not going to tell them, are you?"

"She better not," Nightpelt growled, speaking for the first time. "I'll flay her if she tries." To prove his point, he flexed his claws in a menacing manner. Good. I was itching to tear him to shreds.

"Nightpelt, stop." Birchfrost turned her pleading brown eyes to me once more. "Please, Forestcloud, you mustn't tell anyone. I won't stop seeing him anyway, since I can't live without him." She lifted her chin, gathering what must be the last of her pride. "I'll run away to ShadowClan if you breathe a single word." I almost laughed at the worried expression on her beloved mate's face when he heard the ultimatum. Birchfrost probably didn't have much to back her up on that threat.

Still, I couldn't stand the prospect of Birchfrost sentenced to a miserable existence. "Okay. For now, I'll keep quiet. But if this," I added warningly, gesturing towards the two of them, "gets beyond....whatever you're doing, I will tell Thrushstar, make no mistake."

Birchfrost broke out in a series of relieved purrs. "You won't have to worry about that. Nightpelt isn't going to weasel any 'secrets' out of me, no matter how he begs."

"I'm going back to camp," I meowed. "Do you want to come?"

"I suppose." Somewhat reluctant to leave, Birchfrost stretched forward and tenderly touched noses with Nightpelt. He whispered something in her ear, and she nodded fervently. I made an impatient humming noise, and they broke apart. Dipping his head slightly to me, the ShadowClan warrior whisked back towards his own territory.

My friend and I walked in silence most of the way, each of us brooding in her own thoughts. We didn't run into any of our Clan mates, which I was grateful for, because at the moment I wasn't quite sure what I was going to say to any of them. I was afraid that I would blurt out Birchfrost's secret to the first warrior I ran into. My imagination had to manufacture what was going on in my friend's mind, although I wasn't all that sure I wanted to peek inside that particular place. Strangely, at certain intervals Birchfrost would halt and cry out, as if some discomfort had suddenly come over her. When I questioned what pained her, she waved my concerns away.

"I've had this awful stomach ache for about a moon now. It's nothing, really. I'll be fine one minute, and the next I double over and want to vomit. But I recover quickly, and everything is normal again."

"That doesn't sound like 'nothing' to me," I said. "Did you see Brambleberry about it?"

Her nose wrinkled distastefully, so much so she looked like the old Birchfrost again. "The last thing I want is Brambleberry stuffing a bunch of herbs down my throat. Seriously, I'm all right."

For all that, I still forced her to walk (well, it was mostly me pushing her) to the medicine cat den. As soon as I was sure Mudfur, who had recently received his medicine cat name, was inspecting her thoroughly, I turned around and found Crookedjaw practically gasping with exhilaration.

"Whoa, slow down," I laughed, padding past him. "What's the hurry all about?" The fur on his pelt was glossy and neatly groomed; it seemed like he'd been washing himself for hours.

The pale tabby warrior trotted next to me, purring strongly. "Thrushstar informed me this morning: I'm going to be Graykit's mentor!"

"That's wonderful! We can train together at last--just like when we were apprentices!" I was truly delighted that Crookedjaw had been awarded this honor at last. It would certainly keep his mind off unnecessary advances towards me and vanquish the awkward silences that sometimes invaded our conversations.

Terrible irony struck me at that moment. We ended up at the entrance of the empty warriors' den. A suspicious light flickered in Crookedjaw's amber eyes as he loomed over me. I felt very self-concious, shy, and....something else. Something absolutely unknown to me, something I couldn't place an explicit definition on. I couldn't tear my eyes away from his, so I mumbled a few words that appeared sensible to my mind but that my heart abhorred.

"Crookedjaw, I can't. I'm sorry."

Deputies can't have mates.

Leaders can't have kits.

Cats in power can't fall in love.

"Please."

When he was gone, I crumpled. I collapsed. I buried my face in the moist moss of my nest. I didn't come out for the apprentice ceremony, which was combined with Loudpaw's warrior ceremony. So I was doubly horrible: disgracing the innocent kits and my apprentice friend. Then, though, I didn't care. All I could see was Crookedjaw's crushed face and hollow eyes. Not even when Birchfrost bounded in, squealing with delight, did I move from my spot of agony.

"Forestcloud, you'll never guess what Brambleberry told me! I'm going to have kits! It's been a few moons now, but I didn't know, so they will be born quite soon. I'll have move into the nursery with grumpy old Larchsting! Oh, Forestcloud, isn't it--Forestcloud? Forestcloud? Oh, Forestcloud...."

As I choked out the whole encounter, she curled around me and groomed my fur gently, as if I was one of the kits she was going to bear. Soon enough, her soothing voice calmed my whimpering and lulled me to sleep.

Before I closed my eyes, I whispered, "I'm an awful warrior."

Birchfrost laughed in spite of my serious tone. "Everything will be alright. You'll see."

I dearly hoped she was right.

**So....yeah. Yes, I couldn't resist putting a drop of forbidden love in my story---and shove old Nightpelt in the center of it (you remember him from the first series, I hope....the "fake" leader?). Beware: the next chapter contains death AND gushy CrookedxForest moments....something for the happy side of me and the dark side. :D **


	15. 14: Revelation

**Okay, I admit it. I AM TOTAL CRAP AT UPDATING. I can't keep to a schedule, I can't do things when I know I should, etc. etc. etc. So everyone who still continues to read this get a GIANT THANK YOU and knowledge that I (virtually) grovel at their feet. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Warriors.**

Chapter 14: Revelation

Can everything be forgiven? This seemed improbable even a week after my mishap with Crookedjaw had passed by. It was as if a gaping chasm had opened up between us. We never spoke an unnecessary word to each other. I often went out of my way to avoid crossing paths with him during the day. Unfortunately this meant spending less time with Birchfrost.

For some reason, the two siblings had recently become inseparable. Whenever I poked my head into the nursery there he was, conversing furtively with my best friend. Hearing me enter, Birchfrost's eyes would flit from his face to mine hopefully. Crookedjaw would merely glance over his shoulder, acknowledge me with a sharp nod, and then turn back to his sister.

I had to give him that. Though he was clearly furious at me, Crookedjaw's polite manner never failed him. If we happened to pass by each other or be paired for a patrol, he greeted me with a quiet "hello." Nevertheless, I could feel the friction in the air crackling and hissing like smoldering twigs.

Our soundless feud didn't go unnoticed by the Clan. On one occasion Crookedjaw and I were stuck together on hunting duty. When we reached the river, Crookedjaw immediately motioned that he was heading upstream. An idiot could tell he was only doing so to get as far away from me as possible.

A mix of disappointment and defiance burned in my chest, but naturally I let the latter take over. Two can play at that game, I thought. My counterattack was to toss my head and strutted confidently downstream.

Embertail, the third member of our patrol, swung his head from one of us to the other in complete bewilderment. "Where do you two think you're heading off to? Great StarClan, are the Clan's lovebirds bickering once more?" he half-teased.

Yes, it was obvious to the Clan that something was amiss between us. However, no one, save Birchfrost and perhaps Brambleberry, had any clue as to the cause. Seeing as my friend was now fully confined to the nursery and I didn't feel comfortable approaching the medicine cat, I was at loss at who to turn to.

Trouble never travels alone. Accompanying my quarrel with Crookedjaw was an issue I couldn't ignore: Oakpaw's warrior ceremony. Falconpaw and Swanpaw, now Falconwing and Swanfur for more than a moon, were matched and perhaps even surpassed in skill by my apprentice. His development from a scrawny pipsqueak to a healthily muscular tom was undeniable (a fact not ignored by the young females of the Clan). I'd dropped several loud hints while Thrushstar was in earshot to no avail; an apprentice Oakpaw remained. In fact, Hazelcloud herself confided in me that she was unhappy with the delay in her son's ceremony.

"You would think, with Thrushstar being his father and all, that Oakpaw would've been named a warrior in no time," the former queen meowed as we sat together eating a pair of mice. "I mean no insult to you, of course, but there's not much else you can teach him. If he doesn't move out of the apprentice den soon, he will become restless."

I nodded my head in agreement. "Have you talked to Thrushstar about this?" I asked.

Hazelcloud chuckled sadly. "I haven't had a decent conversation with him in a long while. I should, I suppose, but I know it will merely end up as a battle of screeched insults that the whole forest can hear."

"What do you mean? Isn't he your mate? Aren't you in love?" I asked. Love. My tongue rolled around the word uncomfortably. It sounded awkward, wrong even, coming from me.

"In love?" Hazelcloud repeated incredulously. "My dear, you are truly sweet. I appreciate that you don't indulge in the gossip that so many fall prey to around here."

"I don't understand."

The she-cat sighed, turning her gaze from me to the brilliantly burning sun. "Thrushstar and I...we grew apart, you could say," she began. "It began shortly after Oakpaw was born. We fought constantly over what was best for him. It seemed like whatever I wanted, he wanted the opposite. It got to a point where we couldn't stand to be in each other's company...it was horrible. The fights became less about Oakpaw and more about the resentment we had buried for so long." Abruptly, she snapped out of her reverie. "My goodness, how talkative I am today. I'm sorry, Forestcloud, I shouldn't have told you all of this. Please keep it to yourself-the talk around camp has been bad enough already."

I said nothing as she finished her mouse with two quick bites and padded away. My stupidity came crashing down on me. How had I not noticed this scandal? Here was further proof of how disconnected I was from the rest of the Clan. Moreover, why hadn't Oakpaw told me about his mother's misery? Did he mistrust me, his own mentor? Or had he even noticed her distress?

Well, I wasn't just going to stand around, that was certain. As my eyes flickered towards Thrushstar's den, inspiration struck. I leapt up and bounded towards the den. My paws slowed as I came upon the reed-covered entrance.

"Thrushstar?" I meowed softly.

Some scuffling sounds replied. Thrushstar poked his head through the reeds, and looked quite surprised to see me standing before him. "Forestcloud? Well, isn't this a surprise. How can I help you?"

"I need to talk to you about Oakpaw," I explained, uneasily aware that Thrushstar resembled his son to a great degree. My patronizing mentor instincts were interfering with a struggling respectful tone. "Please," I added for good measure.

Thrushstar narrowed his eyes, but stepped back to show that I could enter. My heart thudded in my chest as I crossed the threshold. Many times had I come to Thrushstar's den, but this was the first time an encounter had been initiated by me. Even if I'd cared about propriety, I couldn't back down now. Thrushstar was sitting in front of me, waiting patiently for me to speak my piece.

I took a deep breath, but halfway through exhaling the words came spilling out. "Thrushstar, I believe Oakpaw is ready-no, more than ready to become a warrior. His skill is at a level far beyond any of the other apprentices. I've given him several small assessments over the past moon, and he excelled at whatever ability I tested him on. I think the ceremony is long overdue, and I'm not the only one. Hazelcloud just told me-"

"Hazelcloud? Is she the one that put you up to this?" spat a voice from the darkness. I held back a flinch as a tabby she-cat slunk from out of the shadows in the far corner of the den. She locked eyes with me as she gradually moved to Thrushstar's side.

"Ivywhisker, please," Thrushstar murmured under his breath. To me, he mewed, "Never mind her. Forestcloud, I agree that you do have a valid point."

"She hasn't given the apprentice a proper assessment yet," Ivywhisker challenged coolly. Her eyes narrowed to slits. "It would be against the code to name him a warrior without doing so."

"I am satisfied. Isn't a mentor's word enough?" I retorted.

Crookedjaw's mother shot me a cold glare and turned to Thrushstar. "She is young and inexperienced," she resumed, acting as if I wasn't standing right in front of them. "I will accompany her myself, Thrushstar, and see if her evaluation is accurate."

"But it's too late to give an assessment now-the sun is setting!"

"It will have to wait till morning, then," the Clan leader interjected, getting to his paws. "Ivywhisker will come with you, Forestcloud, and if she is satisfied, I will make Oakpaw a warrior."

For once, I ignored the surge of protests screaming in my head. I would've loved to rake my claws against Ivywhisker's smug face, but I resisted. I merely dipped my head and retreated, marveling at how Thrushstar could have given up sweet, considerate Hazelcloud for that spiteful old specter.

* * *

"Why is Ivywhisker here?" mumbled Oakpaw quietly so only I could hear.

"It's a long story," I growled in a low voice. "Just relax and do the best you can, and everything will be fine."

"I don't appreciate being excluded from your secret conversations." I flattened my ears as the shrill voice of the demon cut in.

"It's nothing secret," Oakpaw answered, lifting his head to challenge Ivywhisker. "I was just wondering why you're here. Aren't assessments supposed to be conducted by mentors alone?"

Ivywhisker, clearly affronted by my apprentice's retorts, sniffed derisively. "He has inherited your mannerisms, hasn't he?" she remarked sarcastically.

I glared icily at Oakpaw. Normally I would have loved to see the old she-cat put in her place, but I couldn't let anything ruin his chances of becoming a warrior. Oakpaw must have realized the implication of my stare because his mouth settled into a tight-lipped grimace.

Still, even Oakpaw's grudging mask of respect didn't stop Ivywhisker. "How the times have changed," she meowed reproachfully. "When I was an apprentice, the standards were so much higher. If I dared to speak out of turn, my mentor would force me to do nothing but fetch the elders' bedding for three sunrises. I would never challenge the opinion of warriors, especially senior ones, for I knew they had experienced so much more than me."

"I'm sure," I said through gritted teeth. "I think we're almost to a spot with good prey."

"Crookedjaw, of course, has inherited the old ways," Ivywhisker continued, completely oblivious to the interruption. "His father was a honorable warrior, taught the way I was taught. I'm sure Brackentail is comforted that her daughter is learning proper behavior from Crookedjaw. He would never need to be watched while assessing his apprentice."

Before I could point out that this whole set up was her idea, not mine, Oakpaw's ears pricked up. He motioned toward a clump of brush near the riverbank. I nodded, signaling the beginning of the assessment. We had discussed its terms beforehand: as soon as he spotted prey, Oakpaw would begin his hunt. He had until the sun reached its highest point in the sky to gather as much prey as he could. Afterwards, per her request, Ivywhisker would engage in a mock battle with him. If all went well, come sunset, my apprentice Oakpaw would no longer be.

Oakpaw lowered delicately into a perfect hunting crouch and began tracking his kill. I glanced over at Ivywhisker, waiting for her to follow him. She only watched from her spot at my side.

At my questioning expression, she widened her eyes. "You don't expect me to breathe down his back at every moment, do you? It is much more effective to let him think he is alone. It keeps him on his toes."

This was the first thing Ivywhisker uttered that actually contained a grain of sense. We waited in silence until Oakpaw disappeared behind the brush. As soon as he had, Ivywhisker swiftly bounded in the direction of camp.

I stayed where I was for a moment, debating over what to do next. Tthe senior warrior had given me one useful piece of advice, but that didn't weigh heavily enough against her insults. I decided to do a little sneaky assessing of my own: I, too, padded hastily after Ivywhisker's steadily shrinking form.

She was taking a quick route, I soon realized, to a place Oakpaw was bound to end up. The patch of grassy marshland, close to the Twoleg farm but still a safe distance away, crawled with prey any time of the year. I couldn't make out my apprentice on the horizon, but Ivywhisker's eyes were fixed on something; I assumed it was him.

A noise caught both of our attentions. Ivywhisker's head whipped to the right, and every muscle tensed as she crept in that direction. Soon, I lost sight of her. A lone oak tree was the only thing she could possibly hide behind, so I noiselessly loped towards that.

As I neared the massive tree, Ivywhisker's voice made me jump. "What are you doing here?" she meowed. I inched closer, trying to get a good look at who she was speaking to.

"I need to talk with you. It's important," a familiar voice rumbled. The sound sent my heart spinning. It was Crookedjaw, albeit a far more distressed Crookedjaw I had ever heard.

"Why all the secrecy?" Ivywhisker's voice held no trace of the bitterness or annoyance it relished when she spoke with me. Her question was curious and concerned.

I pressed myself against the trunk of the tree as Crookedjaw replied, "It's not exactly something we can discuss in the open. Especially with your...behavior, of late."

"Crookedjaw, you're spouting nonsense. What behavior? You make me sound like an irresponsible kit." She paused. "Oh, I see...this is about Thrushstar and me. You're jealous, is that it? Crookedjaw, your father was wonderful, but he has been gone for a while now. It's only natural-"

"I'm not jealous. Nothing of the sort."

"Oh. Well, then, what is it?"

It seemed ages before her son murmured an answer. "You love us, don't you, Ivywhisker? Birchfrost and me?"

"What a question!" Ivywhisker laughed. "Of course I do."

"You said Vinetail was wonderful. Did you love him, too?"

"This is ridiculous, Crookedjaw. I have to get back to the assessment."

"Answer the question."

"Crookedjaw, please."

"Answer it!"

Ivywhisker sighed. "I did care for him, yes."

"'Care for him,'" Crookedjaw repeated with more spite than I imagined he possessed. "I see now. It makes sense. I was just too stupid to realize it before now."

"You're making no sense. What is the point of all this?" Ivywhisker asked, sounding slightly annoyed.

"How did it feel, cheating on someone who adored you?" Crookedjaw's voice was steely. "Did it give you satisfaction, a feeling of power? You must have enjoyed it immensely. But when you became pregnant, a problem arose. StarClan forbid your secret get out; your reputation would be ruined. Luckily for you, we bore no resemblance to Thrushstar in the least, so Vinetail remained happily ignorant."

"Where did you hear this? What lies has Hazelcloud been telling you?" Ivywhisker demanded shakily.

"Hazelcloud didn't tell me anything; she doesn't even know. Not even Thrushstar was completely sure of the truth. He never bothered to ask because he was so racked with guilt at betraying Vinetail. You were safe for a while, but you never quite forgave yourself. When Vinetail fell ill, the shame overwhelmed you. While he lay dying in the medicine cat den, you told him the truth, begging him to forgive you," Crookedjaw finished, taking a quivering breath.

"Crookedjaw, who told you all of this?" Ivywhisker whispered faintly.

"Is it true?"

I backed away from the tree. Even without seeing my own face, I knew I wore an expression of shock. Running seemed to be the only answer, so I did so. It was a terrible decision, but I made it.

I ran and ran, paws pounding on hard earth, towards camp. In his moment of need, I left Crookedjaw to suffer the pain and agony alone.

* * *

"I, Thrushstar, call upon my warrior ancestors to look down on this apprentice. He has trained hard to understand the ways of your noble code, ad I commend him to you as a warrior in his turn. Oakpaw, do you promise to uphold the warrior code and protect and defend this Clan, even at the cost of your life?"

"I do."

"Then by the powers of StarClan, I give you your warrior name. Oakpaw, from this moment you will be known as Oakheart. StarClan honors your patience and your fervor, and we welcome you as a full warrior of RiverClan."

Oakheart's new name rang out among the cats gathered below Thrushstar. For all the frustration and determination I'd felt earlier, pride at my apprentice's achievement was the last thing on my mind. A small part of me was ashamed of this fact, as I knew full well this was supposed to be my climactic moment of achievement. Yet I couldn't tear my gaze or thoughts away from Crookedjaw's hardened eyes as he called out with the rest of them.

"Thanks for your boundless enthusiasm, Forestcloud," Oakheart remarked, trotting up to me with Hazelcloud at his side. The tortoiseshell she-cat didn't speak a word to me, but the loving pride shining in her eyes showed all I needed to know.

"Don't get smart with me, you little rascal," I warned with a playful twitch of my whiskers. "Warrior or not, I'm still your superior."

Oakheart opened his mouth to retort but thought better of it when Thrushstar padded up to the three of us. Much to my disgust, Ivywhisker was no more than two steps behind. I dipped my head to the RiverClan leader, but I couldn't meet either cats' eyes after what I had overheard that day.

"I congratulate you once again, Oakheart. You truly have worked hard for this," Thrushstar meowed. "You, too, Forestcloud. I'll have to keep you in mind when Birchfrost's kits are of an age to be apprenticed. When are they due?"

We all turned to look at Ivywhisker who, as Birchfrost's mother, naturally would know the answer. However, she simply stared at her paws and muttered something incomprehensible.

"What was that?" asked Thrushstar gently, nudging Ivywhisker.

She raised her head and stared at Oakheart levelly. "I was impressed with how you performed this afternoon," the she-cat said. "You will make a fine warrior."

"Uh, thanks," Oakheart replied, stunned. I, too, couldn't believe Ivywhisker had the capacity to give out a compliment like that.

"You'd better begin your vigil, Oakheart. It's getting dark," Hazelcloud piped up.

"Yes, she is right. Good luck, son," Thrushstar said, touching noses with him. This abrupt fatherly gesture served as further astonishment for the rest of us, including Oakheart himself. He stepped back with a confused, but pleased, expression on his face, and bounded towards the entrance of camp.

"Well, goodnight," Hazelcloud meowed shortly, dipping her head briskly to Thrushstar as custom required. Somewhere within me, pain and sympathy welled up into an emotional knot. Their relationship was strained enough without either one's knowledge of the true paternity of Ivywhisker's kits.

"I'll come with you," I said, not wanting to be caught alone with Thrushstar and Ivywhisker. Giving a nod to the two, I padded a little ways behind Hazelcloud toward the warriors' den. Suddenly, I saw a familiar light tabby trotting past where Oakheart stood guard over camp. My heart screamed to follow him, and for a change I obeyed.

"Where do you think you're going?" Oakheart asked teasingly upon my failure to slip past him unnoticed.

I almost made up an excuse, but quickly decided I was tired of lying. "Which way...?" My question faltered, making me ruefully realize lying wasn't a habit easily overcome.

Oakheart's eyes softened understandingly. "It's about time," he said, pointing his tail towards the burial ground.

I followed in that direction, keeping my ears pricked for any sign of movement. Finally, I saw him. He was hunched over a plot in the far corner of the burial ground, where the older graves resided. I entered the area with caution, still unsure as to why I was there.

My paw pricked something sharp. Gritting my teeth, I peered downwards in the dark. A withered thistle, limp but clinging desperately to life, was the perpetrator. Instead of being annoyed, I smiled. It was as if my old mentor was watching over me, even now, trying to keep me on the straight and narrow path.

"Crookedjaw?" I called out, softly at first, then at growing volume. "Crookedjaw!"

He spun around, claws out, ready for an attack. His shoulders didn't ease when he saw it was me. "What are you doing here? Did you follow me?"

"Yes, I did, and I would greatly appreciate it if you put those claws away."

Crookedjaw complied and when I didn't speak further, he turned away.

"I heard you and Ivywhisker talking today," I meowed, stepping nearer to him, "about your father."

"Which one?" he snapped, laughing hollowly. He still didn't face me.

"Did she tell you the truth?"

Silence. I walked closer and closer until my whiskers brushed his back.

"She loved both of them, she said," he whispered. "She doesn't know which one is really our father. Litters of kits can even have more than one father. Who knows if one of us is Thrushstar's and one of us is Vinetail's? Only StarClan, I guess. And they didn't have the courtesy to tell me, of course," Crookedjaw finished with a half-snort.

"StarClan told you about this?" I asked, trying to hide my incredulity. So they moved from harboring my dreams to his, then.

Crookedjaw nodded. "In a dream. Sounds crazy, I know. You don't have to believe me. No one else would."

"I believe you," I murmured. At long last, he turned around suspiciously. Something in my eyes must have showed what I was feeling because the suspicion immediately vanished.

"I'm just going to throw this out there, because it's insane and sudden and I have no idea what to do with it." I took a deep breath. "No, never mind. It's not sudden. I love you, Crookedjaw, and I have for a long time-I've just been too fish-brained to realize the truth. When you said you loved me, or at least I think you were going to, I was too afraid of what it might do to me and my future. But now I don't care whether it changes me-let it change me, I'm an idiot anyway-I just wish you would forgive my stupidity and tell me I'm not crazy for feeling this way." I stopped and stared up at him hopefully. I'd finished spilling my heart, and it was there in front of him to take or leave.

"You definitely are crazy. We both are," Crookedjaw laughed, flicking his tail across my nose.

I knew my heart was safe with him.

* * *

We walked and talked until the sun rose. Even the thought of fatigue didn't strike me during the entire night. We reentered camp side-by-side, cheerfully oblivious to the bewildered gazes of our Clanmates. Crookedjaw briefly mentioned we should make ourselves available for patrol, but a little cajoling from me kept him out of any senior warriors' eyesight. I was in heaven, and I didn't want any boring warrior duties to interfere with my perfect mood.

Everything came crashing down in an instant.

"Crookedjaw! Forestcloud!" Mudfur shouted, dashing up to us. "I've been looking for you all morning. Birchfrost has been in labor for a while now."

"Aren't her kits due two moons from now?" Crookedjaw asked worriedly.

"They had other plans," Mudfur remarked wryly. "Anyway, Brambleberry ordered me to fetch you two."

"Why? Usually no one is supposed to be in the nursery during a birth," I said.

"Did you ever question your mentor? Just come!" he growled, leading the way. It wasn't really necessary; you could hear Birchfrost's yowls hundreds of pawsteps away. A heavily pregnant Larchsting was crouched outside the nursery entrance.

"How is she doing?" Mudfur asked her. I expected the queen to give her trademark irritable answer, but Larchsting just shook her head mutely. Mudfur beckoned for us to come inside.

It was a scene from a nightmare. Sprawled across half the nursery, the ailing queen had taken a brief respite from yowling and now resorted to uttering a series of grunts and groans. Brambleberry was hurriedly feeding herbs to Birchfrost. 'Feeding' was hardly an accurate word; in between moans, the medicine cat stuffed a pawful of berries into Birchfrost's mouth and forced her mouth to chew.

Birchfrost opened her eyes momentarily and rasped a weak greeting. "Forest...Forestcl-" She broke off into a hacking cough followed by a powerful wail.

"Don't talk," Brambleberry commanded.

"How is the birth going?" I asked nervously, not sure what else to say.

"Fine, fine, everything's fine," she replied absently. "Mudfur, go get more of the same herbs. Especially poppy seed. More poppy seed than anything else."

Mudfur obeyed, but Crookedjaw stopped him at the entrance. They spoke is hushed whispers, glancing over at Birchfrost's convulsing form every so often. Between that, Larchsting's expression, and the pit I had in my stomach, I knew there was something I was missing.

What weren't they telling me about Birchfrost?

**You'll just have to wait and see, won't you? **

**Review to save Birchfrost's life! If it makes a difference...muhahahaha. :)**


	16. 15: StarClan's Mistakes

**Guess who's back from the dead? Mhm, StarClan's [worst] Nightmare (and I get to do some serious StarClan bashing in this installment...yes!) I can't apologize to/thank my reviewers enough for sticking with this story. You guys are the BEST. I hope this makes the wait worthwhile. **

**Disclaimer: I've stopped reading Warriors, so why would I own it? **

I leapt to my paws as Mudfur emerged from the nursery. He didn't look surprised at all when I planted myself in front of him and began an interrogation. "What is it? Is everything okay? What do you need? Herbs? Prey? Bedding?" I shifted rapidly from paw to paw as words rushed out of my mouth with increasing speed.

"Forestcloud, you look extremely tired," Mudfur meowed patiently. He lightly stepped on one of my paws to keep me from moving. "I know you're just trying to help, but please...we've got everything covered, believe me. Get some rest."

Despite Mudfur's soothing tone, the worry in his eyes shone brighter than he realized. I knew they certainly did not have "everything covered." Two days after the birth had begun, no end was in sight. Birchfrost howled all day and moaned through the night. It got to a point where Larchsting had to be moved into the medicine cat den temporarily so she could rest properly. I heard she had requested otherwise; she insisted she could assist with the birth. This was a sharp contrast to the nature of the Larchsting I knew, simply proving how a crisis could bring our Clan together.

"Stop lying to me, Mudfur," I said, ducking my head to hide my quivering whiskers. "Tell me the truth." I took a trembling breath. "Birchfrost is dying, isn't she?"

"She will not die." The voice belonged to Crookedjaw. He padded up and pressed his warm pelt against mine. I leaned into him, soaking up his comforting scent. "She will not die," Crookedjaw repeated.

Mudfur didn't argue or even reply. He dipped his head slightly and walked off in the direction of the medicine cat den.

"But what if she does?" I asked in a weak whisper. I knew it was the question no one would answer. Without speaking, Crookedjaw uncovered a gleaming fish beneath his paw.

"I knew you would be hungry," he said, licking my ears tenderly.

I hesitated for barely a moment; he had guessed right. Hovering outside the nursery became my top priority after Brambleberry forced me out last night. Still, however much I tried to stay calm and collected, the sound of Birchfrost wailing in agony pushed me over the edge. The herbs I brought were all wrong; the bedding, damp; the amount of water insufficient.

Despite his concern for his sister, Crookedjaw possessed the good sense to resume his warrior duties after a day. Yet he obviously hadn't forgotten my distress. He curled his tail around me protectively while I gobbled up the fish.

"She'll live. I know it. She's strong." After a brief pause, he continued, "You know, not all births are like this. I'm sure when Larchsting has her kits, and Swanfur, and you-"

His unfinished statement quashed the enjoyment the meal had brought me. "Wait a minute," I meowed slowly, leaving the fish for a moment. "You're expecting me to have kits? I don't remember agreeing to that. When did we even talk about it?"

"Uh...well, we never did, but...I'm sorry, Forestcloud. I just assumed-"

"Assumed I'd want my body to be torn apart? Assumed I'd delight in howling till the whole Clan cringes? Assumed I'm so in love with you that I'd do whatever you want?" The nerve of him! I narrowed my eyes and backed away from him.

Crookedjaw's mouth twitched in amusement, impervious to my outrage. "I kind of hoped the last one came with the package."

All anger left me. I purred and playfully butted him with my head. Laughing, he insisted that I finish my fish before it spoiled.

Seeing as I was so in love with him I'd do whatever he wanted, I complied.

* * *

Crookedjaw, naturally, nursed an ulterior motive. Somehow he managed to coax me away from the nursery into sleeping in the warriors' den for the first time in days. Once my head touched the soft moss, I was gone-literally. When I opened my eyes, I was sitting in the middle of Fourtrees.

Yet it wasn't the Fourtrees I knew. I saw no other cats around me which, it being Fourtrees, seemed odd in itself. No stars glistened in the sky above; I stared at an endless black void. The trees had an almost luminescent quality to them.

"If this is a dream, it's pretty pointless," I muttered.

"Patience is not one of your virtues, is it?" A voice as coarse as bark echoed around the hollow. I spun around with my fur bristled, waiting to see who my companion was.

"Stop scaring the poor thing," another voice scolded. A petite black-and-white she-cat suddenly appeared from behind a twisted oak tree. Her pelt glowed with the same radiance as the trees. I recognized her faintly, but couldn't place where I'd seen her before.

"She isn't scared. Are you, Forestcloud? How could the future deputy of RiverClan hold any fear of StarClan?" the first voice rasped into my ear. I forced myself to remain calm as a shimmering pair of yellow eyes materialized before me.

In a moment, the she-cat was standing between me and the eyes. "Show yourself, Vinetail. This is serious. We don't have time for your trickery."

With a soft snicker, the yellow eyes gradually sunk into a thin, angular tabby face. The she-cat stepped aside so I could face Vinetail. His gaze surveyed me from head to toe. It was odd, because at the same time I was trying to search him for resemblances to Crookedjaw. Their pelts were similar, but other than that...

Finally, with a resigned grunt, Vinetail growled, "At least my son chose a decent-looking one."

"Always the flatterer, aren't you?" sighed the black-and-white she-cat. She turned towards me. Small she might have been, but the solemn look on her face told me she was used to having cats hang on her every word. "Forestcloud, my name is Rosepool. I was once medicine cat of RiverClan. Vinetail and I-well, most of StarClan, in fact-have been watching you for a while."

That's where I've seen her before! I realized. I watched her and Vinetail and another cat talk about me in a dream! Did they notice me? It was so long ago, I can't remember...

"It has become...necessary...to contact you now," Rosepool continued. "Certain events are about to take place that will turn your life upside down. A choice will have to be made, and we are here to ensure that you select the correct path."

"Correct path? What do you mean?"

The medicine cat's whiskers twitched. "Perhaps that is not the right word. What I mean is, you have a destiny, Forestcloud-"

"If I have a destiny, why do you need to influence my choices?" I asked sharply. "Destiny should be set in stone. I don't think 'destiny' is the word you're looking for, either."

"Fine. You have a point. But you see-"

"Besides, you aren't going to control anything I do. You may have the Clan cats duped into following your every command, but I've seen the outside. I've seen places you don't dare watch over. You aren't as powerful as you seem."

Rosepool looked thoroughly shocked and affronted. Vinetail narrowed his eyes and took one step closer to me. Our whiskers almost touched as he breathed his final words.

"A cat is going to die, causing you to choose between my son and your ambition. You know which one you should choose. If you do not, no one, not even StarClan, knows what the consequences will be. Take that into your arrogant conscience." He turned on his heel and bounded into the starry forest.

Rosepool padded to the spot Vinetail had left, uncomfortably near me. Her mouth opened as if she wished to speak, but after a moment she closed it. She simply stared at me with eyes brimming with sorrow.

"Farewell, Forestcloud."

My eyes shot open. I leapt out of my nest, panting heavily and not quite aware of my surroundings. Luckily, I was back in the warriors' den. Looking around, I realized that, miraculously, all the other warriors still slumbered. Even Pebbleshine, usually the lightest of sleepers, merely let out a high-pitched whimper, eyes still closed.

Wait, I told myself. That is not a grown she-cat's meow. That sounds like a kit's!

I raced over to the nursery. Sure enough, the whimpering grew louder and louder as I came close. My heart pounded so loud in my chest, I was surprised the whole Clan didn't awaken. I didn't dare to hope that everything had gone well; it would be too perfect.

It wasn't perfect. Far from it.

I entered the nursery and froze. Brambleberry had a tiny brown kit pinned to the ground with one paw. With her other, she was attempting to force three red berries down the kit's throat. The kit put up a fight, squealing and mewling as loud as she could, but the berries touched her lips and passed through-

Before I knew what I was doing, I barreled into Brambleberry and shoved her through the reed wall of the nursery. We tumbled together into the little creek that ran beside it. The water wasn't deep by any means, but it was deep enough for me to thrust Brambleberry's face underneath. Sharp tips of stones buried themselves in my flesh, but pain was meaningless compared to her treachery.

Bubbles signifying the medicine cat's scream for mercy compelled me to release my iron grip. I stepped back so she could stand and shake herself off, but made it clear from my gaze that I wasn't letting her get off that easy.

"Murdering kits? Is this what you've stooped to? Is this part of StarClan's 'plan'?" I snapped, lashing my tail back and forth.

"Forestcloud, you do not understand. You don't know half of the story-"

"Where's Birchfrost? Are there other kits? Or have you already killed them?"

"Please, listen to me-"

"I don't think you qualify for any sympathy. I'm going to tell Thrushstar immediately."

"Forestcloud, one of the kits will have a hand in destroying RiverClan!" Brambleberry cried. She grit her teeth abruptly, as if she had said too much. I searched her eyes to decide whether her words were true. I found nothing but desperation.

"Listen up," I hissed. "We're going to make sure that kit is okay. Then you're explaining everything, right now."

* * *

"What I am about to tell you goes against everything in the warrior code," Brambleberry meowed quietly. "Medicine cats aren't supposed to share what StarClan tells us at Moonstone."

I would not be wavered. "Medicine cats aren't supposed to murder kits in the dead of night, either," I pointed out.

We both turned to look at the two sleeping kits huddled in the corner of the nursery. Brambleberry had managed to fish out most of the deathberries from the brown kit's mouth but, as she put it, there was no way to tell what the aftereffects would be. As of now, the little mite was curled up against her sister, a spotted golden tabby. Upon seeing them together, my first thought was how lucky it was that neither of the she-kits looked like Nightpelt in the slightest.

Brambleberry sighed deeply and said, "About a moon after Birchfrost entered the nursery, Mudfur and I traveled to Moonstone. I had a vision of a great battle involving all the Clans. I don't know how it will happen, I don't know when, but believe me, it was horrific. I was in the midst of it. Countless Clan cats, slaughtered. The yowling and screeching...the stench of death...it was unbearable." She let out a tiny gasp at the memory.

I tried to imagine my Clanmates caught up in such a torrent, and failed. It couldn't have been a vision of the near future. Nothing so horrible was possible now.

"Go on," I ordered.

"Somehow, I managed to catch a glimpse of each of the Clan leaders. Three were toms...fiery red, black-and-white, white as snow...and one a she-cat. I couldn't clearly make out her pelt, but I knew in my heart that it was a RiverClan cat. Not just any RiverClan cat, but Birchfrost's kin." Brambleberry's voice dropped to a whisper. "How could I allow our Clan to be drawn into such a battle? I would not stand by and let Birchfrost's kit lead RiverClan to its destruction. I decided I had to...to finish their lives before it was too late."

"How did the battle end?" I asked slowly.

"I don't know. It seemed that I was there for only a second, but that was enough for me. I woke up as a ShadowClan cat was about to slit my throat," Brambleberry said, giving an involuntary shiver.

"Are you sure it was ShadowClan?" I meowed. Something wasn't right here. "Do you even know which Clan was on which side?"

"Well...I can't be sure...I just assumed..."

"You said yourself you don't know how the battle happened. How can you be sure that Birchfrost's daughter wasn't trying to defend RiverClan?"

"You may be right," exclaimed the medicine cat. Relief washed over her features, quickly replaced by guilt. "What have I become? The vision frightened me so much I nearly killed a harmless kit!"

"Not really a surprise. StarClan hasn't managed effective communication lately, trust me," I muttered under my breath. Brambleberry didn't hear me. She rushed over to the kits and began to prod them awake. As she did so, she began chattering to no one in particular:

"Luckily, Larchsting can nurse them. She's due any day now, I expected her kits to be here already. Come, come, little ones, let's get you to my den to see your new mother."

"New mother?" I repeated sharply. "What are you talking about? Birchfrost is their mother."

Brambleberry froze. The kits were now fully awake, batting at her tail with dainty paws, but she ignored them. I watched the medicine cat's face as she turned towards me ever so slowly. "You don't know. You don't know. Oh, Forestcloud."

"Brambleberry, what is it?" I asked. My voice was rising to panicky tones. "Where's Birchfrost?"

She signaled for me to wait, and then bounded out of the nursery. It seemed like forever before she returned, slowly, supporting my friend with her shoulder. Birchfrost appeared normal in every way except one. Her creamy dark eyes, glazed over and emotionless, stared listlessly into space.

"Birchfrost, it's Forestcloud. Your friend. Remember? We talked about her a bit before you went to sleep," Brambleberry purred. She gently lowered Birchfrost to the ground. The way Birchfrost lay languidly at my feet made her appear dead. Was she even alive? I couldn't tell.

Then, a sound. "F-f-f-orest. F-f-forest."

"Birchfrost? It's me. Are you okay?" I meowed, lowering my head to face her eye-to-eye.

"F-f-forest, I miss...I miss you. Let's hunt. Let's hunt," Birchfrost breathed. She still wouldn't meet my gaze. Her voice reminded me of a feather on the breeze. If you didn't watch it closely, it would disappear.

I tried to laugh, but it came out sounding like a croak. "You're in no condition to hunt. You have kits to care for."

"K-kits? Kits, I love kits. Let's p-play, Forest. Play like k-kits," she giggled in the same feathery voice. Brown eyes blinked but refused to focus.

My stomach churned. I buried my nose into her pelt. Was this the death StarClan had predicted? Maybe not, but she would've been better off dead. Surely, this was no life. Birchfrost breathed and spoke, but her mind had disappeared. She was no longer the friend I had known and loved.

"Her labor was the worse I'd seen in all my years as medicine cat," Brambleberry explained sorrowfully. I didn't bother to lift my face. "It took everything out of her. She isn't even producing milk. I tried all the herbs I had, but...nothing. I suppose the blood loss is to blame. It's a miracle she and the kits survived."

"It's no miracle," I spat. I drew back from my friend, struck with an idea. "Brambleberry, do you trust me?"

"After what you've done for me, Forestcloud? Wholeheartedly."

"Then take Birchfrost back to the medicine cat den and leave me with the kits," I instructed. "And whatever I do, do not try to stop me."

Clearly, Brambleberry did not like this idea, but she owed me her life and reputation. She nudged Birchfrost to her feet. After Brambleberry cast one last look at me, they vanished beyond the reed wall.

I faced the kits. My mind had not entirely decided whether to follow-through with my plan or not. The golden tabby had her jaws wide open, begging for nourishment. I held out my paw and she stumbled toward it blindly.

"Your eyes aren't even open," I murmured, reaching out a little farther so she could find me, "and you're still trying to explore. Vicious little thing. Little tiger. Little leopard." At that, she began mewing loudly. "You like that, little leopard? Little Leopardkit. I'm not much for naming, but I think that's pretty good. Want to go ask your father about it?"

I grabbed her by the scruff, and moved towards the other one. However, something made me stop. They're so small, I thought. It wouldn't be safe to bring them to Nightpelt now. Perhaps...perhaps I should wait. There's no harm in waiting.

Leopardkit resumed her mewing, as if in agreement with my thoughts. I couldn't help but purr as I gathered up both her and her sister and carried them towards the medicine cat den.

Maybe I was getting a little soft.

**Hehe, yes, I couldn't resist making Leopardstar half-Clan. It's so deliciously evil. **

**I can't make any promises about updating, because we all know how *well* I keep my promises. :/ Meanwhile, any name suggestions for Larchsting's kits are welcome. There are two (one male, one female). **

**Thanks again, readers. You make my day! :)**


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